Kill Bill: Love and Loss
by Code Breaker
Summary: Just because O-Ren Ishii is a cold-blooded killer, doesn't mean that she doesn't know what love is. Updated: Added Author's Note.
1. Preface and Chapter 1: The First Time

WARNING: CHARACTERS, PLACES AND ITEMS FEATURED IN THIS FAN FIC ARE COPYRIGHTED TO THE PEOPLE WHO CREATED THEM. "KILL BILL" IS COPYRIGHTED TO MIRAMAX PICTURES AND A BAND APART ORIGINAL CHARACTERS WERE SPECIFICALLY CONSTRUCTED FOR THIS FAN FIC. SONG LYRICS FEATURED IN THIS FIC IS ALSO COPYRIGHTED TO THEIR MAKERS AND HOLDERS.  
  
SPOILER WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN "KILL BILL VOL.1" or "VOL. 2", PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS FIC.  
  
This story is rated R for mature subject matter, violence, profanity and brief nudity.  
  
A PDF version of this story, which will include pictures and another type of experience from the black and white text, will be available at my site soon. In order to read it, you must have Adobe Acrobat Reader  
  
When someone is speaking in Japanese, you will see their dialogue _"like this"_. Any other time you see text like so inside (), it represents sound. :)  
  
Written in SHAW {SB} SCOPE  
  
"Better to have loved and lost,   
then to have never loved at all."  
-Saint Augustine  
  
_"For ridiculing you earlier... I apologize."_  
  
FanFiction.net Presents  
  
_"Accepted."_  
  
A Band Apart/Kickbutt Fan Fic   
  
_"Ready?"  
_  
_"Come on."_  
  
(_CLING, CLING, SHING_, **SWOOP!**)  
  
_"That really was a Hattori Hanzo sword."_  
  
"That was the last thing I said. It wasn't what I had hoped for in last words, if I must be frank about such a thing. Though I lay here now, the remains of my life slowly disappearing from me with each second, I at least had one last thing pass through my mind, other than the blade of the Hanzo sword that [BEEP] was using. Other than the fear of death, I had always wondered if my mother and father thought of me as they died. Even if that wasn't the case, there was someone I wanted to have as my last thought. Probably the only man I allowed close when it came to the matter of the heart, the one that I shouldn't have hurt. Just because I was a cold blooded killer, it didn't mean that I didn't know what love was."  
  
(_"Nights in White Satin"  
By The Moody Blues_

_Nights in white satin,  
Never reaching the end,  
Letters I've written,  
Never meaning to send.  
  
Beauty I'd always missed  
With these eyes before,  
Just what the truth is  
I can't say anymore.  
  
'Cause I love you,  
Yes, I love you,  
Oh, how, I love you.  
  
Gazing at people,  
Some hand in hand,  
Just what I'm going through  
They can't understand.  
  
Some try to tell me  
Thoughts they cannot defend,  
Just what you want to be  
You will be in the end,  
  
And I love you,  
Yes, I love you,  
Oh, how, I love you.  
Oh, how, I love you.  
  
Nights in white satin,  
Never reaching the end,  
Letters I've written,  
Never meaning to send.  
  
Beauty I'd always missed  
With these eyes before,  
Just what the truth is  
I can't say anymore.  
  
'Cause I love you,  
Yes, I love you,  
Oh, how, I love you.  
Oh, how, I love you.  
  
'Cause I love you,  
Yes, I love you,  
Oh, how, I love you.  
Oh, how, I love you._)  
  
**KILL BILL: LOVE AND LOSS**   
  
Starring:  
  
Edward Norton as Greg Lowndes  
Lucy Liu as O-Ren Ishii (aka Cottonmouth)  
David Carridine as Bill  
Uma Thurman as [BEEP] (aka The Bride, Black Mamba)  
Vivica A. Fox as Vernita Green (aka Copperhead)  
Michael Madson as Budd (aka Sidewinder)  
Daryl Hannah as Elle Driver (aka California Mountain Snake)  
Julia Dreyfus as Sofie Fatale  
Chiaki Kuriyama as Gogo Yubari  
Gordon Liu as Johnny Mo  
Robert De Niro as Jeff Lowndes  
Faye Dunaway as Ronda Lowndes  
Quentin Tarantino as Lucas Lowndes  
Eihi Shiina as Dr. Kiia Shibata  
  
Based off the films **"KILL BILL"**  
By Quentin Tarantino  
  
Written by  
Code Breaker  
  
CHAPTER 1: The First Time  
  
She awoke in the darkness of the morning. It had been another nightmare, like so many times before. The same nightmare of seeing her father killed by Bill's sword, the blood forming on the bed above her after her mother is killed... Though it had be a long time since it had happened, a long time since she got her revenge, she never really got over that one event at age nine. The nightmares had come back after her trip to the clinic a few days before. Maybe it was her mind's way of saying that what she had done was wrong, but then again, it never told her that before.  
  
What made that one death different from all the others I had caused?  
  
The green digital face of the clock read 4:23 a.m., it resting on the small nightstand next to the bed. She felt his arm draped over her waist, holding her gently close to him. She never wanted him to find out the truth about what she did for a living and what she had done two days earlier. O-Ren didn't want to wake him up, seeing that she knew that the long shifts he often worked wore him out.  
  
At least he's resting peacefully, she thought, unlike me.  
  
She carefully slipped out of bed, the cool air tickling her naked body as she moved out of the room. She moved her way through the dark, finally reaching the bathroom. She turned on the light, closing the door as she did so. She looked in the mirror, taking in every detail of her image. Her eyes, her hair, her nose... Everything seemed okay, for the time being, as it always had been.  
  
Maybe I should grow my hair out. I haven't had long hair in such a long time.  
  
She knelt down, reaching up under the porcelain sink to retrieve a pill bottle that she had hidden there. The doctor told her that she needed to take them to help fight off any infections that may occur post operation. Though thinking about growing out her hair, or about what her next task would be didn't take her mind off of that one moment two days before. She, being an assassin who has killed many, would have not felt any guilt over death. But why was this one lingering? Had it been because of how close the death was? Had it been the fact of it being inside of her instead of out in front of her? Or maybe it was the fact it wasn't just something she did to herself, but to her loved as well.   
  
She opened the bottle, dumping two pills of antibiotics into her hand. She closed the bottle and stuck it back into the place under the sink. She turned on the water, popping the pills into her mouth. And with a mouth full of water, she swallowed them. She then splashed some water onto her face, just to see if she was able to feel it and that this was no extension of some sort of dream that she was having. She knew she was awake at that point. She exited out of the bathroom, shutting off the light.   
  
Instead of returning to bed, she headed to the living room of their four room apartment. She took a seat on the couch, looking into the darkness of the room. She had lived in the apartment by herself for the longest time, Bill having to have pulled a few strings in order to get the best deal. A lot of people wondered one question: How could she have worked for Bill when he had participated in the death of her parents?  
  
It had begun after the house burnt down, after she had made the oath to kill Boss Matsumoto. Bill had returned, finding her watching the place she had called home go up in flames. He had taken her to his place, an apartment that was completely black. He fed her by making a sandwich, using a knife to cut the crust.  
  
"I am sorry that I had to burn down your home," he spoke as he made the sandwich, "It was the only thing I could think of to make Matsumoto think that you were dead, too, little one. But I promise you, that I will make up for the wrong I have done to you."  
  
She never understood why Bill began to teach her how to kill, and why he had been so helpful in her plan to kill Boss Matsumoto, his employer. He had been the one to inform her that he was a pedophile, and also placed the katana and gun in the room hours before she was to arrive. She didn't have enough nerve at that age to ask, but she finally came out with the question when she hit 20 years.  
  
"I'm a balanced man, my dear O-Ren," he explained, "Ever since I was I child, I would always do something good after doing something bad. For example, I would save a frog after killing a grasshopper. I always try to make up for things I've done bad. In your case, I am willing to help you out with anything you need me for, for as long as you live. I think I owe you that much   
since I participated in the death of your parents, my way of making up for doing you wrong."  
  
It made some sense to her, seeing how Bill was. At that point, Bill was already putting together the group, the D-Vas, the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad. Also, it was when she met [BEEP], Vernita, Elle and Budd for the first time. She came to realize that she and Elle were the only two who didn't have some kind of relationship with someone, seeing that [BEEP] was with Bill, Vernita had a surgeon she was engaged to and Budd was dating some sort of stripper named Rocket he met. Elle seemed to be attracted to Bill, but knew she couldn't be with Bill because of [BEEP]. Other than that, O-Ren didn't have much of anyone to be with or attracted to. She didn't mind living alone. Being alone was always the hardest thing to deal with.  
  
Normally, she would just go to the second run movie theater on Montana Street, where they had hit movies for show for a dollar. However, that fateful day, October 4, 1996, lead her to a full house test screening of an independent film called "Bound", directed by these brothers called Wachowski. She had been handed a screening card, heading down the isle of the massive   
theater. She had found one seat near the end of the far right side of the theater. And there he was, the man whom she would come to love, sitting quietly and waiting. That was the first time she saw him.  
  
"Excuse me," she asked him, "Is this seat taken?"  
  
He looked up at her, their eyes meeting each others. He was a slim man, wearing a gray polo shirt, a pair of blue jeans and Wolverine brand boots. He wasn't extremely hansom, but he was a bit more handsome in the same style as any middle class Joe, having to have worked to get where he is.   
  
"Uh," he couldn't seem to find the right words, "Oh, yes, yes. The seat's open."  
  
O-Ren took the seat, settling herself into it. She could sense him becoming uneasy. The shifting gave her the sense that he was often the shy type when it came to being near beautiful women.  
  
"Thank you," she finally said.  
  
"Oh, it's, ah, it's not a problem."  
  
She stared ahead towards the screen, wondering what the film was about. She had also taken notice that he had begun to relax as he had been before. She never understood why some men felt unbalanced when it came to seeing or being near beautiful women. Though O-Ren knew that she was "pretty", she never really considered herself beautiful.   
  
[BEEP], now she's beautiful, O-Ren thought, A Mona Lisa packing a high powered rifle under her dress.  
  
"I wish they would just start this movie," she heard the man say; "I don't plan on spending one of my two free days in a theater."  
  
She looked over at him, now seeming a bit curious about him.  
  
"What are you doing here?" she asked.  
  
"I came to just see a movie," he said, "I thought they were going to be showing one of the "Blind Swordsman" films. I came in and found the theater as is."  
  
"You were expecting a "Blind Swordsman" film too?" O-Ren asked, "I guess we have something in common."  
  
He did have a small look of surprise on his face. He hadn't been expecting that kind of question.  
  
"What's your name?" he asked.  
  
"It's O-Ren Ishii. Do you have a name to, or are you playing hard to get?"  
  
He chuckled lightly, O-Ren coming to the conclusion he was doing it as a way to release the tension he still had.  
  
"Greg Lowndes," he replied, holding out his hand. She looked at it briefly before shaking it, taking notice of the smooth texture of his hand, much like how he probably would have with her.  
  
"So," he tried to start small talk, "What do you do for a living, Miss Ishii?"  
  
"I'm afraid that if I tell you, I'd be force to snap your neck in three different ways at once."  
  
He chuckled again, thinking it must have been a joke. But it hadn't been a joke. Bill explained that when it came to being an assassin, you couldn't tell anyone about it, even people you trusted with your life.  
  
"To be honest, that is really possible. I've seen multiple spine and bone fractures in one area before. I guess it comes with the job."  
  
"What do you do?"  
  
"Me? I'm a doctor, an M.D. I work at Mercy hospital, in the emergency room. And I also do   
some volunteer work for the Red Cross and I am signed up with W.M.T.P."  
  
"What is that?"  
  
"You mean W.M.T.P.? It's the World Medical Transfer Program. It's sort of like an exchange program, where I get to go to different places in the world and interning in various foreign hospitals, as a means of teaching and learning. With as busy a schedule I have in the E.R., I haven't gone to check and see if there are any places available for internship. Hell, barely get much time to myself. So, I'm pretty much glad and lucky to get two days off."  
  
She was becoming curious about Greg. He seemed to be nice and kind hearted. He seemed somewhat the opposite of her in some ways. He was willing to save lives while she was willing to take them.  
  
"Seriously," Greg began, "If you don't want to tell me what you do for a living, I won't mind.   
I'm just trying to kill some time."  
  
O-Ren thought for a moment, and came up with the only answer she could.  
  
"I deal with death."  
  
"You deal with death? You mean, you work a funereal home?"  
  
Greg's assumption gave her the perfect answer.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Talk about polar opposites. I deal with saving lives and you deal with the lives lost."  
  
"Yes. It's difficult preparing the dead before they are to be displayed."  
  
She didn't know why she was adding the extra details to the lie, but it was better than telling him that she killed people for a living.  
  
"I sure bet it is, particularly those that have the serious accidents that rip the body into pieces.   
How can someone deal with that?"  
  
"How do you deal with having to perform emergency operations in the E.R.?"  
  
"With precision."

She just nodded, glad that he got the idea. He smiled lightly, understanding that he just answered his own question.  
  
"And it doesn't get to you," he said, "I know some of the cases I handle don't get to me."  
  
"Were you squeamish when it came to the site of blood?" O-Ren couldn't help but ask.  
  
"Yeah, I was. But I sort of became desensitized to it after handling a lot of patients. However, there is one thing that still haunts me."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
He lightly bit his lower lip, trying to keep it in.   
  
She knew he was holding back on something, what it was she didn't know.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it," he said, "It's something in the past that I screwed up on. I   
shouldn't freak you out over details."  
  
He sort of sank in his seat a bit; apparently whatever it was that he was holding back had hit a   
raw nerve. O-Ren wanted to know what it was. She had grown interested in this man who sat next to for no more than five minutes. She noticed a few people getting up in front of the screen, apparently the directors, and two actresses. She recognized both of the actresses from previous roles, Gina Gershon and Jennifer Tilly. She realized that the movie was about to start and that there wasn't more time to talk. She leaned over to him.  
  
"I hope we can continue this conversation after the movie," she said, "That is if you don't mind."  
  
He was a bit surprised. That may have been his first time a girl has "picked him up", at least that's what O-Ren thought from his reaction. At the time, she thought that he normally didn't go out to bars to pick girls up, but most likely had a small pornography collection hidden in his apartment.  
  
"Sure," he replied, "I know this nice coffee shop. I go there sometimes on my lunch break. Do you want to take my car or yours?"  
  
"Yours," she said, cracking a small smile, "I don't have a car. I have a motorcycle."  
  
And that was the beginning. After the movie and filling out the information cards, they went and had coffee. Needless to say, she found out a lot more about him, but tried not to give too much away of herself. He talked about his parents who lived in San Francisco and his older brother who ran a hard to find video store. After chatting a bit more about life, politics and whatever topics she felt comfortable with, they had exchanged phone numbers. He had told her that he would call her the next day, which she thought was the typical male "I'll call you next week" type of response. She was surprised when he in fact called the next day. He sure didn't seem like the average guy, but she still found him interesting.  
  
"What is it about him that you like?" Black Mamba herself asked, "Other than the sex?"  
  
They were on their way to complete an assignment, both riding in [BEEP]'s '68 Cadillac Coupe De Ville convertible. "Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" by Santa Esmeralda played over the radio, the volume turned down low so that they could talk. As the year had passed, O-Ren had become good friends with Black Mamba, sharing thoughts and some personal information with her. It was almost like talking to a sister she never had.  
  
"I don't know," O-Ren answered, "I mean, it's as if he always looks for the good things inside of a person. I've never had any kind of a relationship, but he doesn't mind if I am at all gaudy."  
  
"That's a first, an average Joe catching the heart of an assassin."  
  
"You and Bill are together. What makes you different?"  
  
"Bill and I are both killers, Cottonmouth. But you and Greg are like death and life. And don't even mention Vernita and Dr. Bell, because he's cosmetic surgeon. And she's been lying to him too."  
  
"He doesn't know I'm an assassin. He still thinks I work at a funeral home. And to be honest, I think he would be mad beyond belief if he discovered I was making dead bodies instead of preparing them."  
  
"You never know."  
  
They pulled into an alleyway after reading the ghetto area of the city, their target's location inside of an abandoned warehouse. [BEEP] popped the trunk open, various automatic weapons inside.  
  
"Which one do you want? The M-16 or the AK-47?" Black Mamba asked.  
  
"M-16," O-Ren replied, picking it up and pocketing a few clips for it.   
  
Black Mamba chuckled at her as she pulled out an AK-47.  
  
"AK-47," she said with a smile, "When you absolutely, positively have to kill ever motherfucker in the room, accept no substitute."  
  
"You're beginning to sound like a gun runner," O-Ren replied, "So, how many in there?"  
  
"Besides the target? Maybe four, five guards for each buyer. Plus there's four buyers."  
  
"Are you kidding? That'd mean there'd be more than sixteen or twenty guards in there."  
  
"I know. Hardly seems fair, does it?"  
  
[BEEP] closed the trunk, both of them heading out towards the warehouse.  
  
"By the way, Bill wants you to bring Greg to the Barbeque on Wednesday."  
  
"Well, I'm not sure if Greg's on call that day or not. I'll check with him and get back to you on it."  
  
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ  
  
O-Ren snapped back to the current timeframe, sitting in the darkness, the clock on the reading 4:27 a.m. She hadn't been no more than four minutes when she drifted off into thoughts and memories of the past. She also realized that she had been crying. She hadn't really cried since she was little.  
  
BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ  
  
O-Ren looked over at the small table that rested next to the couch, where they normally kept the remote for the TV. She had forgotten that she had left her pager there, but was glad enough to remember to put the beeper on vibrate. She turned on the light, looking at the number displayed. It was Bill. He had been extremely heartbroken since [BEEP] hadn't called in. The only time someone doesn't call in when they're scheduled to meant only one thing: they were never going to talk on a phone, unless it was from the afterlife. O-Ren had equally been sad at that time, but was slowly recovering. She picked up her cordless phone, dialing Bill's number. She had a feeling that Bill may have found out who killed her, and had decided to call in the remaining Vipers to avenge their fallen sister. She didn't wait long for Bill to pick up.  
  
"I got your page," she said.  
  
"O-Ren, I'm afraid I have some bad news," Bill said over the phone, "I should have sent you to handle Lisa Wong. At least I know that you would have gotten the job done and come home, like a good girl should. You know, it's scary betraying someone who loves you more than life itself, don't you? I mean, you and Greg have that understanding. But betraying people who love you is worst. One, one is easy to forget about. Five, is not."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"I'm calling in the family for a task, my dear O-Ren. Be ready by seven o'clock. Make sure you've packed black clothing. We'll be attending a funeral."  
  
"Who's funeral, Bill?"  
  
"The funeral of one of the most deadliest women of the world. [BEEP], O-Ren. She's not dead."  
  
(To Be Continued......)


	2. Chapter 2: Calm Before The Storm

("_Tangerine"  
by Led Zeppelin  
  
Measuring a summer's day, I only finds it slips away to grey,   
The hours, they bring me pain.   
  
{Chorus}  
Tangerine, Tangerine, Living reflection from a dream;   
I was her love, she was my queen, And now a thousand years between.   
  
Thinking how it used to be, Does she still remember times like these?   
To think of us again? And I do.   
  
{Chorus})_  
  
CHAPTER 2: Calm Before the Storm  
  
It felt like any other normal night in the Tokyo General Hospital, at least to Greg it did. After four years of interning at the hospital, he could tell when it was going to be a bad shift or a good one. The surprise call from O-Ren was in fact a surprise. He had no reason to suspect that things were going to be bad. It was only a few minutes until his shift ended, where he would go home to his still slightly messy apartment. He hoped to finish cleaning it and still had enough time left to enjoy his free day. He pulled on his black leather jacket and closed the door to his locker at the same time, knowing that night hung over outside. It wasn't as cold as he expected it to be, even for the winter.  
  
O-Ren still lingered on his mind, even though it had been a couple of weeks since he last saw her. Despite the fact that she may have been hurt, it was something she brought onto herself. He did feel a bit guilty about the way he treated her, but that's how all relationships end, with guilt and pain. They were both adults. It sure wasn't fun when she showed up at his apartment, which was for sure. It also wasn't fun being shot with a dart full of...  
  
What was that stuff called again?  
  
He shook his head, not being able to remember what it was that she said Bill called it. Whatever it was, it pried the truth out of him like a hot knife through butter. Greg picked up his bag, exiting from the men's locker area and entering into the break room. Dr. Kiia Shibata was there, enjoying a small bit of hot coffee and watching the news. She had lost her first patient the day before, a victim of a gunshot wound, direct to the heart. He had comforted her, knowing the pain of losing a patient. He himself suffered that same pain. She looked to have been doing better at that moment than yesterday.  
  
_"Hey, Kiia."_  
  
She turned her head from the TV and looked at him. She smiled lightly at him, a sweet and innocent smile that only a child would have.  
  
_"Hello, Greg. Are you about to head home?"  
_  
_"Yeah,"_ he said, _"It's night time and it appears things have slowed down."  
_  
_"What do you plan to do with you free day?"  
_  
_"Catch up on my sleep, do a little cleaning and maybe go shopping."  
_  
There was a brief moment of silence in between each other, as he tried to make sure that he had everything in his bag.  
  
_"Don't you hate that?"_ Kiia asked.  
  
_"Hate what?"  
  
"Uncomfortable silences?"  
  
"Not really. It gives you a moment to think about what the other person is going to say."  
  
"Were you going to say something?"  
  
"I actually don't know. I was wondering what you were thinking."  
_  
Kiia was silent for a brief moment.  
  
_"I want to thank you for yesterday. I felt terrible for losing my patient."  
_  
_"It was nothing. You just have to realize that when it comes to certain situations, some things can't be helped. Some people too."_  
  
She seemed so innocent to him, almost like how O-Ren was when he had first met her. No matter how hard he tried to forget about her, she still came back up. He did still have some feelings for her, but he couldn't let himself go back to her, nor allow her to come back to him. He had been put through enough and was somewhat glad that it was over. He wondered why O-Ren had called him to tell him that she would no longer call or disturb him. Frankly, he couldn't care much, but he felt a bit empty in his heart where O-Ren had been. Not all the work or the truth or anything else for that matter could take his mind off of that.  
  
Kiia pulled the chair next to her out, patting it lightly. Greg figured he should go ahead and have a seat.  
  
What are a few minutes of overtime?  
  
He placed his bag on the table, settling down into the seat next to Kiia. She was appealing, even for a first year resident. Though, he didn't really feel comfortable, seeing that he didn't know any more about her except from work. But, then again, knowing that much was okay with him.  
  
_"Are you okay, Greg?"_ she asked, _"You've seem a bit sad the past month."_  
  
_"Have I?"_  
  
_"Yes. From what I had noticed, it started when we had that woman here, the one with pneumonia. Ms. Fatale, I believe her name was."_  
  
_"Yes, it was."  
  
"Was she a girlfriend of yours?"  
  
"No. She was an associate of a girlfriend of mine."  
  
"So, that would explain the sad look you've been having. What did this woman do to you, this girlfriend, associate of Ms. Fatale?"  
  
"She lied to me."  
  
"What about?"_  
  
Greg lowered his head down a bit, but managed to answer.   
  
_"I'm afraid I can't tell you."  
  
"Too painful?"  
_  
He looked at Kiia, who seemed to be an angel behind the dark eyes she had. He closed his eyes, thinking that she may have been able to see into his soul.  
  
_"I just can't tell you."  
  
"Have you been alone since?"  
  
"For four years, yes."  
  
"It must be difficult."  
  
"It is."  
_  
She took another sip from her cup, sitting it down next to the remote for the TV.  
  
_"Would you like to go out with me to lunch some time?"_ Kiia asked.  
  
Greg looked at her for a moment before he cracked a smile.  
  
_"Are you asking me out on a date, Kiia?"_  
  
_"No. It's just that we both are lonely. And I don't have anyone to be frank with. I was hoping that we could get together, as friends and co-workers, and have a nice talk over some food. You don't have to if the request seems a heavy burden on you and how you feel right now."  
_  
_"I'd have to think about it. I mean, I've got a lot of stuff to sort through in my life right now. But I'll let you know."_  
  
Greg took a brief glance at the TV screen, noticing that Kiia was watching the news, it apparently reporting live, showing what appeared to be a massacre.  
  
_"Kiia,"_ Greg said, pointing towards the TV.  
  
She turned and noticed it too, picking up the remote from the table in front of her. She turned up the volume as the report was on its way.  
  
_"From what reports claim, an American woman is currently the suspect and is consider dangerous. __Tokyo__ police have reason to believe that it may have been crime related due to the victims and their leader. Names are currently being withheld, pending notification. Those that were seriously wounded have been sent to __Tokyo General__Hospital__."_  
  
Greg looked back at Kiia, whose eyes were as big as his in surprise. He knew that they were on their way here and that they were currently shorthanded at the moment. Both quickly exited out of the break room, heading up through the narrow halls of the emergency room towards the front desk. The hallway was nearly a light blue, the hospital using a light blue florescent lighting. He could only wonder what they would be facing there at the emergency room in the not too distant future. They made it to the front desk, just as the EMS buses had just signaled in over the CB.  
  
_"Home base, this is bus one. We've got about twelve wounded in all four buses. We are inbound, E.T.A. to hospital, seven minutes."_  
  
Greg pulled off his jacket, moving around behind the desk to drop it off. He looks over at the nursing assistant who had just come out of the back.  
  
_"We've got twelve wounded on the way here, seven minutes,"_ he explained, _"I need you to get everyone in the hall and ready for an explanation of the situation, now."_  
  
He quickly picked up the CB radio and called in.  
  
_"Home base to bus one, we read you. We'll be ready."_  
  
He sat the radio down, looking over at Kiia.  
  
_"Greg, you can still go,"_ Kiia said, _"We won't burden you with this."_  
  
_"You're going to need all the help you guys can get. Needless to say, I'm a bit of it."_  
  
He headed back into the hall, where the active twelve people were standing and waiting. Greg paced as if he were a drill instructor of the United States Marine Corps.  
  
_"All right, listen up,"_ he began, _"We've got twelve, I repeat, TWELVE wounded people. Some of these range from minor cuts to severed limbs. We are a bit short, but I'm breaking us up into teams. The first team will deal with the minor cuts and examination to see if there injuries are any more severe, the second will deal with the major injuries, like any injuries to the upper gastric area or the abdominal area. The third team will deal with those that are the most terminal patients. Triage, ladies and gentlemen, if you haven't experienced it before, you sure as Hell will in about five minutes. Get yourselves prepped and ready. Nurse Giga will head team one, Dr. Shibata will be team two, I'll be on team three. Remember to scrub and wear gloves. Let's move!"_  
  
He all of them began to scatter, Greg following Kiia to the sinks. They began to scrub their hands as good as they could, getting ready. Some of the nurses got the necessary medical supplies ready, clamps, sutures, the defibrillator kit, bandages, cotton swabs, syringes, extra on everything they could think of to each of the three rooms that they were going to be using. As soon as they were all scrubbed down, a few of them donned black aprons and black latex gloves. Greg didn't have time to put on an apron, the sound of the EMS sirens coming up outside. He quickly jogged up to the front, just as the first two patients were rolled in. Greg recognized who they were right away, seeing that he was familiar with the Kato mask and the black suits that they were wearing.  
  
Jesus Christ, O-Ren, he thought to himself, what the fuck have you done?  
  
_"What do we got?"_ he asked the driver, who wheeled in the first one.  
  
_"One female, suffering impalement from some sharp object through the thoracic cavity, one lung is deflated. Entry started in the anterior of the body. Her arm was severed in between the wrist and elbow, cutting through both radius and ulna."_  
  
_"Okay, take her to room three, the other one?"_  
  
The driver wheeled the girl to the third room, where his team was ready to get to work.  
  
_"Male, suffered severe lacerations to the chest and abdominal area, mostly anterior and near the traverse. Also, his right foot is missing, cut off right at the ankle."_  
  
_"Take him to room two."_  
  
Greg began to head to room three when the driver came out. Greg caught him by the arm.  
  
_"After you're done unloading your third patient, we're going to need you here."  
  
"I'm afraid we can't stay here long sir,"_ the driver said, _"There's about sixteen more with injuries we have to get from the House of Blue Leaves."_  
  
Shit!  
  
_"Okay, after you get them, get back here and get ready to get your hands bloody, you got that?"_  
  
The driver nodded as he ran out. The driver and EMS nurse from the second bus began to wheel in the next two in.  
  
_"Nurse Giga,"_ Greg ordered, _"You know what you're to do, examinations and minor injuries. If you need me, you'll know where to find me."_  
  
He briefly looked into the second room, watching as Kiia got a syringe ready to inject a sedative into the male gang member. She tied off his arm, getting a vain so that she could inject him.  
  
_"I've got bad news,"_ Greg said as she finished the injection, _"This is the calm before the storm. Sixteen more are on their way after the buses drop these off."_  
  
_"Sixteen?!"_  
  
_"I know, 'The shit has hit the fan'."_  
  
He began to head to room three, getting in there just as one of the nurses secured the stump that once had an arm and hand. Greg pulled out a syringe, prepping the patient to be sedated. If he was going to rein late her lung, he couldn't risk having her awake while doing it.  
  
This is going to be a hell of a time.  
  
---------------------------------------  
Three hours later.  
---------------------------------------  
  
Greg's shirt was splattered with blood, not just his shirt but undershirt as well. Through out the 28 that were brought in, seven of them died. Those were the severe injuries. He pulled the gloves off of his hands, the talcum powder leaving some residue on his hands, tossing them into a nearby trash can. He ran his hands through his hair, a bit glad that things had finally slowed down again. There were only a couple of patients left to deal with, but other than that, the chaos was over. He walked back to the break room to pick up his bag before heading to the front desk. He peaked in at Kiia, just as she had finished stitching up a young man's face, his right eye missing. He could only think about what had happened. There was a report that came in for the buses to come back, so that bodies of the dead and severed limbs could be retrieved. That was more than an hour and a half ago. One of the drivers said it looked like something out of a 70s samurai movie.  
  
O-Ren, what happened? What did you get your crew into?  
  
At that moment, one of the nurses ran in, getting a hold of a stretcher, wheeling it quickly out the door. Greg didn't pay it any mind. He pulled his jacket from behind the counter, stuffing it into his bag. He looked down at his shirt.  
  
This is the second time I've messed up this shirt with blood.  
  
Just at that moment, the emergency room doors blasted open, two of the EMS nurses and the nurse from earlier wheeling in someone on the stretcher. It was a woman, her left arm missing, the cut made a little ways down from her shoulder, through the humerus. As they passed by, Greg got a good look at her. He recognized her right away, just as he had recognized that the gang members he had helped were the Crazy 88. The woman that had been wheeled in, missing arm and light bruising on her face, was Sofie Fatale. Greg dropped his bag from the shock of seeing O-Ren's associate, the one he treated no more than a few weeks ago. He began to follow them, as they turned into room two. Kiia was a bit caught off guard, quickly grabbing a pair of new gloves to put on.  
  
_"I'll help,"_ Greg said, getting a pair himself, _"She's my patient."_  
  
Greg tossed his bag aside, moving over to Ms. Fatale. One of the nurses had put on an oxygen mask for her, she was hyperventilating.   
  
"Ms. Fatale," Greg said, "Do you remember me?"  
  
She appeared to be a bit dazed and confused, almost as if she was unaware of her surroundings. It took her a minute, but she finally responded.  
  
"Dr. Lowndes."  
  
"That's right, I treated you a few weeks back."  
  
"You're O-Ren's boyfriend."  
  
"Was," he corrected her, "What happened to you? Where's O-Ren?"  
  
She motioned for him to lean closer, and he did. And through the mask, she whispered to him. The revelation had been like a pinprick to the heart, but some sort of delayed reaction with it. He leaned back straight, adjusting himself. He couldn't think about that at the moment.  
  
"Don't worry, Ms. Fatale," he said, "She may be, but you're not. Not as long as I can help you."  
  
Kiia injected Sofie with a mild sedative with a little bit of morphine, a means of keeping her calm and to help with any pain, as Greg began to get to work on cleaning and securing her injury. That was until EMS could bring all the missing limbs to the hospital so that they could be reunited with their proper bodies. Sofie would have to wait her turn; the surgeon they had called in to help was already on the fifth patient with twenty three left to go. Greg kept the message that she whispered in the back of his mind, it buzzing against his thoughts like a wasp. He helped Sofie getting a room by herself and got her prepared for surgery, so that when it came time she could just be wheeled in. The arm had been put on ice after it was found, sometime soon to be reunited with its owner.  
  
"Greg," Sofie said to him, "I'm sorry about O-Ren."  
  
"Don't worry about it."  
  
"She told me, once, that losing you was like the sky losing the sun, knowing that there would never be a beautiful day again."  
  
Greg was silent as he inserted an IV needle into her remaining arm, making sure the drip was running.  
  
"If it hadn't been for you, O-Ren never would have been my friend. I guess I should be thanking you, because you've saved my life twice."  
  
He paused for a moment, not sure about what she meant by twice. Greg had picked up the call remote, placing it in Sofie's lap. He placed his hand on her shoulder, seeming to care for once in the whole night about someone. Though it was his doctor side that cared, his normal side almost reflected that same feeling.  
  
"If you want, I'll go swing by your place before I come back to work two days from now. I can pick up some clothes for you."  
  
She nodded silently, almost as if she had suddenly been overtaken by shame. He began to leave, turning back one last time to look at her before he went. He could hear her sobbing lightly, trying her best to keep it in. It began to remind him of O-Ren, about how foolish he had been to hate her. As always, in life, you never really know what you have until you lose it. But in Sofie's case, there was a possibility that she would get her arm back and working again. For Greg, he would never have such a luxury. He would never be able to have O-Ren back and never get a second chance at saying that he was sorry. He wouldn't be able to be with her again. Only after you've lost something, you realize its true worth.  
  
As he walked down the hall, he spotted another familiar face. It wasn't hard to notice him, seeing that he was carrying the sword that Greg first thought was decoration when he was first shown it. He made eye contact with him right away, and something inside him went cold.  
  
"Well, if it isn't Billy Badass himself," Greg said, catching his attention."  
  
"Dr. Greg Lowndes," Bill began to say, "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I'm interning here. What's a cold-hearted motherfucker like you doing here?"  
  
This made Bill chuckle a little bit.  
  
"How about we just skip the nice chat and start kicking each other in the balls, eh?"  
  
"Go fuck yourself, Bill!"  
  
Everyone turned towards them, Bill noticing the attention and the serious attitude that Greg had. He must have known that Greg was deeply angered. He straighten himself up, his soft tone being taken over by a serious one. He had to have noticed the fire of hatred behind Greg's eyes at that point.  
  
"Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"  
  
Greg looked into the nearest room, finding no patients inside. He motioned for Bill to come into the room. Greg locked the door as he closed it, Bill taking a seat on the bed. He sat his sword next to him and patted the hilt as if it were his girlfriend. Greg resisted the urge to throttle him, to knock the sword away from Bill's reach and choke the life out of him.  
  
"I know that you're upset about O-Ren's death. I myself feel the loss. I understand that anger you are harboring, that is how I felt when Budd and I lost our parents when we were younger. But I am not the one to blame for the tragic loss of O-Ren. [BEEP] is, but for what reason is unclear. She was the one who sent you all of those victims that you had to deal with earlier. If you wish to vent out your frustration over your loss, you can take it up with her, if you are so incline."  
  
"No, Bill," Greg responded, stepping towards him to where he was within arm's length, "I'll take it up with you. Why? Because YOU killed her. You killed her when you shoved that sword through her father and allowed Matsumoto to use it to kill her mother. [BEEP] only put her out of the misery YOU caused her. You took a nine year old child, stripped her of her innocence and any chance at a normal life."  
  
Bill stood up, apparently Greg's words cutting deep.  
  
"I helped her."  
  
"No, you HELPED yourself. Why else would you have planted the necessary weapons in Matsumoto's room unless you were looking to advance yourself? You took her innocence like the serpent tempting Eve to eat the apple. You took away O-Ren's innocence and made her into a monster, like Frankenstein."  
  
Bill shook his head, pacing away from Greg, spinning around on his heels.  
  
"You seem to be hell bent on blaming me. What about you? You should blame yourself for this as well. You ran out on her when we came back from El Paso. You broke her heart."  
  
"I didn't break her heart. I hurt her feelings but I never broke her heart."  
  
"And how do you know that?"  
  
"Because she told me!" Greg was already at the point of tears, willing himself to hold them back, "I want you to see what you've done, Bill. I want you see what damage YOU have brought."  
  
Greg opened the door, Bill following after he picked up his sword. Greg held Bill back as they looked in on Sofie. Greg noticed that Bill's manner had soften up a bit at the sight of the one-armed Sofie Fatale. Greg turned to him, looking right into Bill's eyes.  
  
"There's a sixty/forty chance that her arm may work again, with the odds against her," he explained, "And if it does work, it will take two years before she gets it back to the way she was. So, you see, Frankenstein, one of the monsters you made doesn't only hurt the people you are hired to kill. And when it comes knocking on your front door, I hope she gets you where you LEAST expect it: in the heart."  
  
Greg noticed that Bill appeared to be ashamed, his eyes now lowered. Greg stepped out of the way and watched Bill as he entered the room. He sat his sword on the bed before moving over to the chair Sofie sat in. He placed both of his hands on her shoulders. Greg hoped that his words had hit the right nerves, because he did hold Bill accountable for all of it.  
  
"Sofie... Sofie," he heard Bill say in a soft tone, "My Sofie. I'm so sorry."  
  
"Please," she responded, "Please forgive my betrayal."  
  
"No more of that."  
  
"But still, I..."  
  
"'But still,' nothing," Bill cut in, "Except my aching heart over what she's done to my beautiful and brilliant Sofie."  
  
Greg knew, or at least hoped, that Bill got his point. He turned and headed further into the hospital, leaving Bill to remain with the damaged Fatale. There was one final thing he felt that he needed to do before he could leave, something to put any doubts to rest.  
  
He found himself heading down the long hall that lead to the morgue. He had never been down that hallway before, it being barely lit with the exception of the occasional overhead light above. He could feel the temperature slowly drop as he walked, almost as if he were descending into the coldness of the Earth's dirt. He finally paused at the double doors at the end of the hallway, being able to build up enough courage before he could pass through them.  
  
Inside the morgue, there was cold steel, white covers and the stench of bleach that had been recently used on the floors. The place gave off the feeling of something from a Dario Argento film. He could hear a radio off some where, playing "Last Kiss" by Wayne Cochran. It was coming from the office area, which Greg assumed the coroner on duty was currently at. He headed towards the door to the office area, the desk light being the only one on in there. As he stood in the doorway, he looked at the man behind the desk, looking like a Japanese version of Alfred Hitchcock. He looked up from some paperwork her was doing, his eyes almost piercing.  
  
_"Pardon me,"_ Greg asked, _"May I have a look at the body of O-Ren Ishii?"_  
  
The coroner was silent for a moment, still looking at Greg for a moment before he looked down at Greg's ID badge. He nodded.  
  
_"She's at the end, Locker 2A."_  
  
_"Thank you."_  
  
Greg turned around looking at the row of storage lockers, where the bodies of the recently dead have been placed and waited for one reason or another. He followed them down towards the end, feeling as if he were floating and not walking. He finally came to a stop at 2A. He slowly became afraid, wishing that O-Ren was alive and this was some sort of prank to make him feel bad. But a part of him, he guessed it was his soul, compelled him. He opened the door with a small tug on the latch, reaching in until he could feel the slab. He pulled it out slowly, as if he didn't want to awaken the dead. Greg only pulled it out a little ways, up to where the waist would be before moving around to the left side of the slab. He could make out the body underneath as a woman, the curves being much so. He reached forward to grab a hold of the cover, but snatched his hand back.  
  
She can't be dead, he thought, O-Ren always made it back home. She's got skills and knows how to walk away alive.  
  
He knew he was lying to himself. That was what denial mean, and it was a normal reaction to someone who didn't want to fact the facts. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to grab a hold of the white cloth. He pulled it down a little ways, opening his eyes when he stopped. For a moment, he stared out into space, not wanting to look. But something drove him, finally giving into doing so.  
  
There she was, O-Ren Ishii, looking as beautiful in death as she had in life. Greg noticed the cut on the top part of her forehead, a fat rubber band stretching from under her jaw to the top of her head, in an attempt to keep her scalp on and in place. Throughout all the chaos that had been her life, Greg thought she had finally found peace. Other than the paleness of her skin, she looked as if she were sleeping.  
  
Tears began to silently flow down Greg's cheeks, his pain being silent as he cried. He began to wonder if it had been his hatred or fear that had lead O-Ren here.  
  
I know she said it wasn't my fault, but I still feel guilty about it.  
  
He retrieved a small Swiss army knife from his jacket pocket, flipping open the scissors that came with it. He twirled a small amount of her hair around with his finger, finally cutting a few strands. A locket of her hair would be the only thing he'd have left of her, the only piece of evidence that was proof that she was real. He shoved the knife and the locket of hair into his pocket. This was going to be the last time he was going to be near her. He leaned over her and gave her a kiss on her left cheek.  
  
"Goodbye," he whispered, the word almost being stuck in his throat as he said it.  
  
He pulled the cover back over her and pushed the slab back into place. After closing the door, he placed his hand on the cold metal for a moment, trying emotionally to sever the connection. He finally found strength to move, heading towards the double doors. He had gotten half way down the hall before his knees gave out from under him, both him and the emotional wall collapsing at the same time. He fell to his knees, tears rushing like damn that had finally broke. And there he was, alone in the hallway, like the future ahead of him.


	3. Chapter 3: Sake and TV

(_"Band of Gold"  
By Freda Payne  
  
Now that you're gone,  
All that's left is a band of gold  
All that's left of the dreams I hold  
Is a band of gold  
And the memories of what love could be  
If you were still here with me  
  
You took me from the shelter of my mother  
I had never known or loved any other  
We kissed after taking vows  
But that night on our honeymoon,  
We stayed in separate rooms  
  
I wait in the darkness of my lonely room  
Filled with sadness, filled with gloom  
Hoping soon  
That you'll walk back through that door  
And love me like you tried before  
  
Since you've been gone,  
All that's left is a band of gold  
All that's left of the dreams I hold  
Is a band of gold  
And the dream of what love could be  
If you were still here with me  
  
INSTRUMENTAL BRIDGE  
  
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh  
  
Don't you know that I wait  
In the darkness of my lonely room  
Filled with sadness, filled with gloom  
Hoping soon  
That you'll walk back through that door  
And love me like you tried before  
  
Since you've been gone,  
All that's left is a band of gold  
All that's left of the dreams I hold  
Is a band of gold  
And the dream of what love could be  
If you were still here with me  
{repeat and fade out} _)  
  
CHAPTER 3: Sake and TV  
  
She awoke in the dark alone, like some many times in the past. As always, it was 4:23 a.m. She couldn't fall back asleep after that time, the reason unsure to her. She remembered that morning when she first awoke at 4:23 a.m., from some sort of dream that she couldn't really remember, except small fragments that now were faded to the further regions of the library in her mind. Maybe she had misfiled it somewhere, not that it mattered much in the past four years.  
  
Has it really been that long?  
  
She was unsure for a moment, but then assured herself it had been four years. It had been four years since she killed that one little life, four years since the El Paso Massacre and four years since Greg left her. She couldn't help about think about that one day, where two of the most major events of her life took place. One of them was at that Twin Pines chapel, where she and the Vipers and Snake Charmer himself decided to pay a visit to Black Mamba. Even a while after, she was surprised that she had survived the gunshot to the head, delivered from Bill's Colt.  
  
At least she's sleeping, she thought to herself.  
  
She tossed the pillow she was hugging aside on the bed, looking up at the ceiling as she turned onto her back. She wondered if the cause of awaking at this particular time was because of Greg leaving her. She hadn't been able to get herself into the familiar, comfortable position that she used to when she was with Greg. She tried everything she could think of: sleep aides, warm milk, lip-stick red Seconals and sex. But she still awoke at that particular time. She wasn't sure what to call it, but she believed it wasn't insomnia. She knew that she fell asleep and then wake up at that time. Insomniacs didn't get any sleep. She climbed out of bed, switching on the light on her bedside table.  
  
Her bedroom had wood grain walls and black tiles floors, a dresser, a night stand and a king size bed. The apartment was a lot bigger than the one she used to share with Greg. A center oval-shaped hallway connected everything: kitchen, dining room and study. There were two bathrooms, the guest one being near the entryway to the study.  
  
O-Ren pulled her hair into a ponytail, the robe hugging her as she walked from her bedroom to the study. None of the Crazy 88 were required to be there, seeing that the building that the apartment resided was heavy on security. She didn't need to worry about other yakuza clans sending someone to kill her. In one more week, she would rule the crime council or die trying to.  
  
The study had become more of a video store and TV room, O-Ren having to become an avid collector of various 70s grind house cinema films, including exploitation films like "Coffey" and "Assault on Precinct 13". She also dug the B-horror and some kung fu and samurai films. One of her favorite B-Horror movies happened to be "The Velvet Vampire". She had acquired the taste for such movies from Bill, who actually owned a few of the 35mm masters for the samurai films. She would remember the Saturday nights that she and he would watch them, back when she was in her teens. It was in that she came to realize what assassinations were, an honorable public service. Her whole collection of VHS and DVDs rested on the shelves of the study where books were normally at. She did have a few books about the genre of films she admired, including "Sex & Zen and a Bullet to the Head", one of her favorite Hong Kong Cinema reference books. Also in the room was a mini bar, where she retrieved a bottle of warm sake and a small cup. It would be unusual for someone to have sake at that time in the morning, but then again, sake was always good at anytime. She sat the cup and bottle on the table in front of her as she sat down on the couch. It took her a minute to find the remote to the flat-screen TV, seeing that it has fallen somewhere into the cushions of the couch. She finally found it and turned it on.  
  
There wasn't much on at 4:30 in the morning, except a rerun of the TV show "Sexchores". Not even the sex being shown was stimulating in any way. Normally, it would in more ways than one, but not at that moment. That was beside the point. She felt as if she were lacking, as if she were a jigsaw puzzle that wasn't complete. The feeling had lingered since Greg left that day after her return from El Paso. No matter what she did, no matter what emotion she hid or shown, it was always there. She tried to fill it in with platonic partners, trying both genders. Though they seemed willing to love her, she didn't feel the same as she had when she was with Greg. It was through this search that she met Asimi Yubari, the oldest of the three Yubari sisters. She had met Asimi at a bar called "The Stone Fish". She was a skilled assassin, much like O-Ren had been. Asimi had a connection, which gave O-Ren the sense that she was trustworthy. Not only did Asimi watch O-Ren's back, but was also a good partner, for a while. A few months later, Asimi decided to retired from the world of the assassin. She wanted to leave Tokyo and move to the country side, where she would take care of both of her younger sisters, including the slightly unstable Gogo. However, Gogo didn't want to leave. O-Ren knew how hard it was on Asimi, also knowing the fact that Asimi wouldn't be able to leave her sister behind. O-Ren then decided to help out, by promising Asimi that she would make Gogo a bodyguard for her and to keep an eye on her. Asimi and Yuki left, and Gogo's repetition had at that point begun to skyrocket.  
  
She got up from the couch, deciding to put in a DVD. She went over to the case, pulling out one of the martial arts DVDs. It was "Bai fa mo nu zhuan II", the one that she started her collection with. She placed the DVD into the player, heading back over to the couch. She accessed a certain scene, but not before switching the audio language to English. Though she could have had it on any other languages available on the DVD, she chose English for pure aesthetic value. The scene she had jumped to was almost towards the ending of the film, where Cho Yi-Hang comes back into the life of the white-haired Bride, Lien Ni-Chang. At times she felt like Lien Ni-Chang, alone and a bit angry at times. She often caught herself thinking about Greg and her life four years ago, much like how the Bride with White Hair did with Cho Yi-Hang. The only difference, other than that O-Ren was real, was that she hoped that Greg would come back. She was hoping that security would call up, letting her know that Greg Lowndes was there to see her. She would stand in the doorway, waiting for him to step off the elevator, like a puppy waiting for its master to come home, ready to love without question or thought.  
  
Yet four years had past, no word or trace. She had tried to track him down within the first six months after he left, but the W.M.T.P. was the only path that lead to Greg and was also the only obstacle she had to deal with. Unfortunately, like the doctor/patient privilege, they weren't allowed to give out where Greg had chosen to go. It wasn't easy for her to track down Greg like it had been for Bill to find [BEEP], for the pure fact that Bill didn't have to deal with the U.S. Government. The W.M.T.P., which Greg failed to inform her, was a part of the World Health Organization, which itself was a part of the United Nations Organization. She tried everything she could think of, including talking with Greg's family. They didn't know where he went to, but he had told them that he would be interning a whole for the W.M.T.P. They assumed that O-Ren would be with him during the internship. After giving up the search, a few more months had passed. Within those months, O-Ren felt useless. If it weren't for Sofie being there for her, she never would have been able to pull herself out of the slump that she was in. One whole year had passed when O-Ren finally felt somewhat better. She had decided to go home to Tokyo and try to take over the business of crime, with Bill's support. It was, after all, the only thing she had that she knew about well. Before moving, she took Greg's car to his parents' house, as well as the key to the storage unit, where all of Greg's stuff that hadn't been broken had been stored.  
  
She had a third cup of sake, which was going to be the last one for the day. She had taken it back over to the mini bar. At that point, the lovers on the screen had re-embraced each other once again, with a soft and powerful melody about love and youth playing over the soundtrack as they kissed. The song began to make O-Ren tear up, as it had so many times before. She never watched this film in front of anyone, not even Sofie. She didn't want anyone to see her cry or close to crying. She was so close to achieving her goal. Any sign of weakness to any member of her group would signal the fall of the Crazy 88. How could they victorious if their leader was weak?  
  
She wiped away the forming tears, collecting herself before she could collapse into a sobbing mess. She stopped the movie and turned off the TV, heading back to her room. She got into a hot shower, hoping that it would help clear her mind up. It sort of helped, washing away the thoughts of earlier. After drying her hair, she pulled it back into a ponytail. During the search for Greg, she had completely forgotten about wanting to grow her hair out. It was after she begun her new venture that she decided to grow it out. She decided to be casual today, putting on a black T-shirt and pants to match. She donned a pair of Prada boots, draping each leg of the pants over them. She put on a pair of earrings, not caring about what pair it was. By the time she finished, it was already 5:33 a.m. Her housekeeper wouldn't be in at 6 to begin making breakfast.  
  
She headed back to the study, turning on the TV once again. She flipped through the channels, trying to find one that had the morning news. All she could find was a show where amateurs performing human tricks could send in videos. She tuned in, just in time to see a teenage girl break a metal spoon using her butt and a pair of thong underwear she was wearing. O-Ren noticed that the girl's hair color and the fact that she was wearing a schoolgirl outfit.  
  
Say, that girl looks a lot like Gogo from behind, O-Ren thought to herself with an awkward smirk as she changed the channel, to one that finally had the news.


	4. Chapter 4: The Library and the Phone Cal...

(_"Changing of the Guard"  
by Bob Dylan  
  
Sixteen years,   
Sixteen banners united over the field   
Where the good shepherd grieves.   
Desperate men, desperate women divided,   
Spreading their wings 'neath the falling leaves.   
  
Fortune calls.   
I stepped forth from the shadows, to the marketplace,   
Merchants and thieves, hungry for power, my last deal gone down.   
She's smelling sweet like the meadows where she was born,   
On midsummer's eve, near the tower.   
  
The cold-blooded moon.   
The captain waits above the celebration   
Sending his thoughts to a beloved maid   
Whose ebony face is beyond communication.   
The captain is down but still believing that his love will be repaid.   
  
They shaved her head.   
She was torn between Jupiter and Apollo.   
A messenger arrived with a black nightingale.   
I seen her on the stairs and I couldn't help but follow,   
Follow her down past the fountain where they lifted her veil.   
  
I stumbled to my feet.   
I rode past destruction in the ditches   
With the stitches still mending 'neath a heart-shaped tattoo.   
Renegade priests and treacherous young witches   
Were handing out the flowers that I'd given to you.   
  
The palace of mirrors   
Where dog soldiers are reflected,   
The endless road and the wailing of chimes,   
The empty rooms where her memory is protected,   
Where the angels' voices whisper to the souls of previous times.   
  
She wakes him up   
Forty-eight hours later, the sun is breaking   
Near broken chains, mountain laurel and rolling rocks.   
She's begging to know what measures he now will be taken.   
He's pulling her down and she's clutching on to his long golden locks.   
  
Gentleman, he said,   
I don't need your organization, I've shined your shoes,   
I've moved your mountains and marked your cards   
But Eden is burning, either brace yourself for elimination   
Or else your hearts must have the courage for the changing of the guards.   
  
Peace will come   
With tranquility and splendor on the wheels of fire   
But will bring us no reward when her false idols fall   
And cruel death surrenders with its pale ghost retreating   
Between the King and the Queen of Swords. _)  
  
CHAPTER 4: The Library and the Phone Call  
  
O-Ren sat in the back of the Chevy van with the others, while Bill occupied the driver seat and Sofie Fatale sat in the passenger. They were on their way to El Paso, it having to have been an hour after taking Bill's personal jet to get there. It had been hard to believe that Black Mamba had moved to El Paso and not somewhere that she wouldn't have been most likely found by Bill and the others. The plan that Bill constructed and informed them of on the plane was simple: Drive down, stay the night and kill her in the next morning. Though, almost everyone was calm from what O-Ren noticed. Elle and Vernita played Rummy in the back while Budd, who sat next to O-Ren cleaned his Hanzo sword, humming "You're Cheating Heart" by Hank Williams. She wished that Budd wasn't sitting next to her with his sword out like he had it.  
  
"Budd," O-Ren began, "Could you please put your sword away?"  
  
"Why?" Budd asked playfully, "You're afraid it's gonna bite you?"  
  
"Budd," Bill's voice caught his attention.  
  
Budd had looked up to see his brother's eyes in the rearview mirror, staring at him with a serious coldness to them.  
  
"Please put the sword away, and don't pick on O-Ren. You know how she feels about Hanzo swords."  
  
Budd smirked and complied with his brother's wish, but did seem a bit disappointed in doing so. He sheathed the sword, the sound it made as it slid into it sent a rollercoaster of shivers up and down O-Ren's spine. She looked at the rearview, spotting Bill looking at her as if he were asking if she was okay. She nodded, letting him ease his mind and his concern. Everyone in the group, including Budd, knew that O-Ren had a fear of Hanzo swords. It started the moment Bill killed her father and the close call she had with death when her mother was killed. It wasn't just Bill's sword that she was afraid of, but any Hattori Hanzo sword. She was somewhat glad that Hanzo retired, that he no longer made swords and owned a Sushi bar. At least she knew the odds of her encountering someone with a Hanzo sword and a vengeful hatred was very slim, odds being in her favor. She drifted off into the library of her mind, almost an old Victorian style library that would most likely be found at a university. She had all of her thoughts, ideas, knowledge, memories and history properly catalogued, filed and placed. As she passed the front desk, she noticed a newspaper resting there, almost looking as if it had recently been printed. She spun it around before picking it up, noticing the title of the paper: The Ishii Daily News. She noticed the first headline as she read it.  
  
"Riders on the Storm!- In the most recent events, Bill, the Snake Charmer, and his group, the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad, are currently en route to the Dew Drop Inn in El Paso, Texas. The group was on their way to perform a hit that will affect them both professionally and personally. When asked how she felt about what she and the others were about to do to [BEEP], a long time friend and associate, she had only this comment: "She not only put Bill through Hell, she put me through one as well. Though I still think of her as both a sister and a best friend, she should suffer for the emotional and physical pain she had put me through the past few months. I can only hope she understands, seeing that she would do it to me if the situation were in fact reversed."  
  
She also noticed the second front page article as she flipped it over, noticing a picture of both her and Greg.  
  
"O-Ren Ishii - Under Suspicion?- A report issued by the Emotional Center of O-Ren Ishii stated that there was a brief argument between O-Ren and her current boyfriend, an E.R. doctor named Greg Lowndes. The argument started when Lowndes tried to question Ms. Ishii about her trip. However, before it could become heated and before she could tell Greg the truth, Ms. Ishii was picked up by a member of her group. Currently, there are plans for an apology phone call and she is currently holding back two major secrets from him. As for the possibility of her telling the truth about those two secrets being likely, has yet to have been determined."  
  
She dropped the newspaper into the recycling bin, yawning as she walked through the library's isles of books as she reached the audio/visual room. She entered, closing the door behind her. There was a massive collection of video and music in the room, some of them being films she recalled seeing, dreams that she remembered when she woke up or songs she heard before. She flipped though the old LP stack, finding an LP titled "Songs that Remind Me of Greg", a compilation of songs she put together. She was careful to remove the record out of the sleeve, placing onto the turn table that sat on the table next to the collection. The speakers came alive with loud silence as she sat the needle into place. The first song on the record was "Nights in White Satin" by The Moody Blues; it began to play as she took a seat in a leather lounge chair. She never really knew why the song reminded her of Greg, but the first time she heard it, which had been a couple of days after they had coffee post "Bound" screening. Upon hearing it, she thought about him. Even though she was relaxing in a lounge chair in her mind, in reality, she still sat in the back of the Chevy van next to Budd, looking aimlessly out the window next to her.  
  
Budd rang the bell at the front desk, seeing that the manager or the person running the establishment wasn't there. There was the muffled sound of a porn movie soundtrack playing from a back room, the door closed and a little ways behind the counter. Budd rang the bell again, with no avail.  
  
"Either someone poor sucker is getting lucky and is using the movie to get them into the mood, or they're not getting any at all," Vernita said as she used her SOG knife to scrap away dirt from under her fingernails.  
  
Budd rang the bell once again, this time a bit louder in order to catch the attention of whoever it was in the back room.  
  
"This place is a dump," Sofie said, checking her shoes to see if she had stepped in something on the way in.  
  
Budd rang the bell for the last time, before Elle had finally lost her patience, snatched the bell off the counter and chugged it at the door. It smashed through the wood, disappearing from view as it entered the room. However, the only last remains of the bell was the sound it made as it hit something glass on the inside.  
  
"Hey!" Elle called out, "Put your dick up and get out here! We want rooms!"  
  
Vernita smirked at the sudden outburst from Elle.  
  
"Didn't we agree that Budd was the short tempered one?" she asked Elle.  
  
"Eat me," Elle responded in a low voice.  
  
"Nice invitation, but I don't prefer blondes. Hell, I don't prefer women. I'll stick with dicks, thank you. And if you don't like that, then you can kiss my motherfuckin' ass, CMS."  
  
Elle rolled her eye at Vernita's sarcastic remark.  
  
"Girls, play nice," Bill told them, almost as if taking on the role of a father trying to overrule his children, "Or I'll make you two sit in separate corners."  
  
O-Ren had been silent throughout the whole time, not really paying attention to the others. She had been playing the scenario of the phone call she would have to make over and over again in her own head, hoping to figure out all possible outcomes, including both favorable and unfavorable. Of course, she couldn't forget what started the brief discussion that would have escalated into a full on war. Normally, with such a situation, it would have been a woman starting it, but it wasn't for Greg and O-Ren. But instead of another woman being involved, it was what wasn't said that started it.  
  
Greg had been assigned to work that day, getting up about 6:55 a.m. She had been sitting on the couch in the living room, waiting for one of the members of the group to pick her up. On the coffee table in front of her was a carry-on bag, with the usual items. Maybe she should have waited outside, but she didn't want to leave Greg without a note saying what she was doing. Greg seemed a bit surprised by finding her there, sitting on the couch, in the darkness of the room before he switched on the lights.  
  
"O-Ren," Greg seemed concerned, "What's going on?"  
  
He had been concerned for her the past few months, ever since the beginning of the fiasco, back when she had thought Black Mamba was dead. Though she wanted to tell the truth about what she was going to do, she couldn't. She had to lie, and she knew it. She knew that telling the truth would risk destroying everything they had together. That was probably the reason why Vernita lied to Dr. Bell, in order to keep the peace. But then again, Vernita easily knew how to lie. He father was Charlemagne Green, one of the top five poker players in the world. His lies and bluffs were so good, that Charlemagne could have easily convinced the Pope to become a porn star. It was a talent that had been passed down to Vernita and had helped her out on many assignments. A couple of times, she had to play a role like a Charlie's Angel. The hit would probably be Vernita's last hit, seeing that she and Dr. Bell were currently married and were trying for a child. This thought sent shivers down O-Ren's spine, much like the sound of the Hanzo sword as it was sheath did.  
  
"Bill needs me to go with him."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Bill has found [BEEP]'s parents. He's going to El Paso to tell them what happened to her."  
  
Greg looked at her for a moment in silence.  
  
"Okay, why does he need you?"  
  
"Emotional support," was the only answer she could come up with very quickly.  
  
She noticed that Greg had still been half asleep, his eyes telling her of this. He moved over in a slow pace, taking a seat next to her on the couch.  
  
"Bill can find emotional support with Jeanie, Elle or Budd," Greg said, taking her hands into his, "You barely have emotional support to help him."  
  
It was at that moment she began to recall the moment that she had been informed of Black Mamba's "demise". She couldn't think straight, temporarily losing her mind out of grief. She didn't know what to do or what to think. She finally thought, through the sorrow and hurt, to crawl underneath the bed. She did. She wanted to revert back more than ever, revert back before everything that was there and wanted to feel the innocence once again. She didn't know how long she stayed under that bed, looking up at the mattress, crying, but it had been long enough for Greg to come home and find her. He had carefully pulled her out from underneath, not wanting to hurt her. She had continued to cry, even after accepting the warmth of Greg's arms as he had sat her down on the bed. She couldn't remember what she said, but knew that it had to have been about Black Mamba's death. If there was one thing she remembered vividly, it was her asking him this:  
  
"Make love to me. Please, I don't want to feel like this anymore."  
  
Seeing that he had been loyal to her, he would often respect most of the things she asked him to, of course that had been with some questioning at times. Like asking Black Mamba to take the Lisa Wong hit for her so that she could go on the trip to meet Greg's parents, it was one of the many things on the list of not so good ideas that she had begun to make for herself. And in the three months that had passed, she paid for both mistakes.  
  
"I've got to go," O-Ren replied.  
  
"Why?"  
  
O-Ren couldn't make eye contact with Greg at that moment, her feeling as if his eyes were digging into skin. She wasn't sure where the conversation was going, but she could sense that Greg's concern and worry had turned slightly in a different direction. She noticed it when he got up, taking a few paces away from her and turned around to look at her, now his eyes more awake than before.  
  
"Are you sleeping with Bill?"  
  
The question caught her attention, making her look back at him. She wasn't sure where the question came from, but it wasn't something that Greg would just ask unless he was suspicious about something.  
  
"What?" she let out the question, almost startled, "That's the most absurd thing I've ever heard."  
  
"It may be, but I have asked you a question."  
  
"The answer is no."  
  
"O-Ren, please don't lie to me. I'm not stupid, okay? I know something is going on. I've noticed how you always go to him after he pages you. The trips you make. I mean, why would a mortician need to go out of state for? And in the past two days, you have avoided me touching you."  
  
She couldn't believe that he would think such a thing. But then again, men were a lot more paranoid than women were when it came to their spouse and the fear of them cheating.  
  
"Greg, you are my life. You are the only many I love and will ever be with."  
  
"Then why don't you talk to me anymore, O-Ren? I mean, you never talk about your childhood. I've never heard you mention anything about a family, except for your friends. And there have been the mood swings, which I understand. But avoiding me until last night, I don't get."  
  
Nor would you, she thought to herself, nor would you understand what I did to us, Greg. Not just what but why as well.  
  
"O-Ren, please, just tell me the truth."  
  
She wanted to tell him. She wanted nothing more than to let the one she loved know everything about who she was. From the death of her parents, working as an assassin, every little secret, all that she wrote down in her diaries throughout the years and how close she was to giving up the life she was living for something ordinary, something with him. She wanted to tell him the dreams she was able to recall. But a part of her told her that she couldn't. Her heart on the other hand disagreed and was forcing her to tell him, to let the truth flow out of her like a river from her mouth.  
  
Knock, knock, knock!  
  
Both had jumped at the knocking from the door. O-Ren knew it was one of the Vipers who had come to pick her up. That was more than six hours again. At that point, where she currently was, she unlocked the door to the room she would be in for the night. It actually seemed more like a small apartment, with a kitchen, a dining area and a bedroom that was separated by a wall. She sat her bag on the table, taking a seat on the couch. She didn't know what it was that made a person feel good after sitting down, but it did feel good nonetheless. She needed a little bit of quiet time to herself. Sofie had the room next door.  
  
O-Ren began to wonder about Sofie, something to take her mind off of the call she was going to make and the task she was going to perform the next day. She had wondered why Bill had decided to bring her along, seeing that Sofie wasn't the killer type. She thought about what she knew about Sofie, pulling a very slender volume off the "People I Know" shelf in the library of her mind. Taking a seat at the wooden table, she opened the book up. She began at the first chapter, going over information about Sofie from her own timeline. Sofie had been born in France, in a small village not to far out from there. Her mother had been an artist, her father a teacher. In her teens, she had been trained in ballet and had performed in major productions, including "The Nut Cracker". She had hopes of being both a lawyer and a model. She trained herself at speaking English, Japanese, German, Russian and Spanish fluently before completing her education. When O-Ren had turned 20, Sofie was 23 and had begun a relationship with a man whom Bill called "Pretty Riki". She was familiar with Riki, because he was there the night Matsumoto had her parents killed. She remembered that he was wearing a green jacket and a pair of sunglasses with blue lenses. Though the picture of Riki in the book wasn't as accurate through years of degradation, she did remember him being there. And she also remembered how sad Bill was to hear of Riki's untimely death, which had been two years since she herself started her relationship with Greg. Sofie had been a bit devastated by what had happened, having to been committed to a hospital because of an emotional breakdown. Though she was a lawyer, Bill decided to keep her on his payroll as a secretary, as a means of keeping a promise to Riki and to help her find her footing again in life. It was some time after when Bill revealed a side of Sofie that not many people knew.  
  
Both O-Ren and Bill sat on the hood of his '67 De Tomaso Mangusta, having some drive thru burgers from Big Kahuna Burger while waiting for a client to arrive. They were sitting on a hill that overlooked the city below.  
  
"As you know, for a few months, Sofie has stayed with me since Riki's death," Bill began, "She's stayed in the guest room. And you also know I have a bug placed in the overhead fan. After the first night, I listened to the tape that was made that night. And it pained me hearing it. She cried herself to sleep. It was also after that when I noticed some other small details. Like she would have this small sadness in her eyes, but then a while later, she would be laughing at some sitcom she would be watching on TV."  
  
"Is she crazy or something?" she asked as she took a sip of Sprite from her cup.  
  
"No," Bill replied, "Much worse. She's in a constant state of depression. I can't recall the exact clinical name for it, but I bet my left nut it's because of Riki's death."  
  
"But it's been two years. Why hasn't she gotten over it yet?"  
  
"A crazy little thing, love is. It makes us do things that we ourselves cannot explain. People have fought, killed and died in the name of love. Billy Shakespeare got it down right when it came to some of his popular works. In "Julius Caesar", Brutus, though misinformed, kills Julius out of love for Rome. "Romeo and Juliet", the lovers kill themselves because they couldn't imagine living life without one another. "Hamlet", a son seeking revenge, compelled by the ghost of his father, whom he loved dearly. "Macbeth", a man killing a king so he could become one, following his wife's suggestions. If Shakespeare, a playwright, was able to understand what love can do, you should understand it too, within time."  
  
And she did. She understood why Bill called her first and why they were there. Bill wanted to make sure that Black Mamba knew she broke his heart, right up until she died. But it still didn't answer the question of why Sofie was there, nor did it make her feel any better about what they were going to do the next day. To be honest, nothing probably could make her feel better or at ease. Not all the assuring in the world could. There was a knock at the door that drew her back to the room at the Dew Drop Inn, back to the couch that she rested in.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
The door cracked open, Sofie peeking in. O-Ren noticed the sad look in her eyes, like how Bill told herm some sort of glazed eyes like a wildcat having to be locked up in a zoo.  
  
_"Sorry to disturb you,"_ she spoke in Japanese, _"Bill asked me to inform everyone that we'll be eating at Jack Rabbit Slim's for the evening."_  
  
_"Sofie, can I talk with you for a second?"  
_  
Sofie was a bit confused, but entered the room without answering. O-Ren moved over a bit, giving some room for Sofie as she sat down. She looked forward, not making eye contact with the Japanese-Chinese-American hybrid.  
  
_"What do you want to talk about?"_ Sofie asked.  
  
"About you," O-Ren spoke in English, "That is if you don't mind."  
  
Sofie settled back, finally appearing to relax a bit. However she still did appear a bit stiff.  
  
"What are you doing here with us, Sofie?"  
  
"I'm here at Bill's request."  
  
"I can understand why I and the others are here. And I understand why Bill is here. But you, you don't have any reason to be here. I mean, Bill doesn't need a secretary right now."  
  
There was a long moment of silence in between them.  
  
"Bill asked me to be here because he needed me, not as his secretary, but as his friend. Everyone here is concerned for him. I am here because we are friends. You're here because he is like a father to you and Vernita. Budd is here out of brotherly love, while Elle is here because she's in love with him. So, you see, me being here isn't out of place after all."  
  
"Are you going to be participating tomorrow?"  
  
"No. I'm not a killer. I'm going to be burning in Hell for being a lawyer. Imagine what Satan would do to me if I were both."  
  
O-Ren found that statement a little bit funny, but ironic as well. It was the fact that all of them were bad people who had plans on doing bad things to not just a bad person like themselves, but innocent bystanders. The truth was there were no angels in the area of life that they lived in, with the exception of Greg. He was a seraph if anyone had to be, because of him being able to save and help lives. And in this analogy, O-Ren knew that the bad people she was hired to kill must have put her name on God's good list, seeing that it was a public service to kill the wicked. And tomorrow's task would undoubtingly remove her name from that list.  
  
"Besides, Bill wanted to keep an eye on me, especially after this morning."  
  
O-Ren was confused slightly by what Sofie meant, but the thought slipped her mind as there was another knock on the door. Both of the women turned to the door as Budd stuck his head in.  
  
"Sorry ladies, for disturbing you in the middle of gossip," he said with a somewhat dry voice, "Time to go get some grub."  
  
No to Jack Rabbit Slim's were alike. Though they all had the 50s/60s themes, each one explored a different aspect of those eras. The on in El Paso had a drive-in movie theater theme, Bill having to place a reservation for one of the private project booth rooms that sat above the ground floor, overseeing the tables that looked like cars. On the massive screen, Alfred Hitchcock's "Vertigo" was being shown. Everyone sat at the table, the back wall of the room being Plexiglas that gave them the view. Bill had the speakers turned down, so that the sound of the movie wouldn't distract them from their meal and their discussions.  
  
"So, we're gonna do this, huh?" Vernita asked Bill, "We're actually going to kill Black Mamba?"  
  
"And finally," Elle muttered to herself.  
  
"Of course, TNT Jackson," Budd responded, "She broke his heart."  
  
"I wasn't asking YOU, Buddy boy. I was asking Bill. So, Bill, are we goin' to do this?"  
  
Bill used his napkin to wipe his thin lips before he replied.  
  
"Vernita, my darlin', we are. But the act isn't killing. This is more of a test, Copperhead, to see if we all have the will to do it. I know we all think we can and without hesitation, but we can never really tell when it comes to moment of truth."  
  
"Bill, I know I can kill her," Elle said, "Even before the moment of truth."  
  
"Of course you can, my girl."  
  
Budd chuckled, almost amused by Elle's comment.  
  
"Both a hateful bitch and a brown noser," Budd commented before turning to Bill, "Brother, both you and I know I can do it without hesitation. Hell, it wouldn't be the first time."  
  
"Of course, my brother. But the two I am mainly concern about are both Vernita and O-Ren, whom both were friends of [BEEP]. Vernita, though this is your last hit, will you be able to go through with it?"  
  
O-Ren took notice in the change of Vernita's tone. O-Ren knew that both Copperhead and Black Mamba were both classmates from high school, but didn't realize they were close friends too. Vernita bit her lower lip for a moment in though before finally answering.  
  
"I hate knowing I have to fuck her over. But knowing the consequences of not following through with this, between having to choose between me and her, I can only hope her death is quick."  
  
O-Ren felt all the eyes in the room on her, the last one to complete the pact. She had wondered if the feeling was what it was like for an ant under a magnifying glass. She couldn't bring herself to make eye contact to any other. Though she hated Black Mamba for the past months, it didn't mean she wanted her dead. If Bill wanted her just dead, he would have gone to El Paso by himself and put a shot right in her ear from behind her. But he didn't. He called all the remaining Vipers to come to do this. As Sofie had put it, it was about love. But it also had been about honor, or at least she hoped it did. If they failed to do this, then they would lose face in front of customers and they would go to competitors. Honor had to be there, seeing that was the first thing Bill taught her. And it was honor she had to ask about.  
  
"Will we at least honor the Viper code?" she asked, "It would seem fair to at least let her know we're here, to give her a chance at an even fight."  
  
Vernita was a bit surprised, probably from not considering asking the question. Elle shook her head in disappointment.  
  
"Stupid Chi-Jap-American bitch," Elle said under her breath.  
  
The moment O-Ren heard that insult, it was out of natural reflex to retaliate. She always felt that by someone insulting her heritage meant that they were insulting her parents. If that insult had just been for her, without any reference to her heritage, she would have just let it slide. But insulting her family bloodline, that was a big mistake anyone could make. And for that, they deserved to be punished. How dare someone insult her family and the honor they had? With almost lightning reflexes, O-Ren snatched up her steak knife and hurled it at Elle's remaining blue eye. But Bill, with his talent for knowing the Vipers, caught the knife in mid air, an inch away from Elle's eye. She reeled back out of shock, not expecting the knife to have been thrown or even caught. If there was one thing that Elle feared, it was losing her remaining eye. Bill knew O-Ren too well, even down to reactions, so he was sympathetic to what she had done.  
  
"Elle," Bill said, placing the knife on his plate, "Apologize to O-Ren."  
  
Elle shot O-Ren a cold glare with her one eye. If O-Ren had a chance, she would have tried for the eye with a spoon. Elle was a bit bitter, but finally gave in to Bill's request.  
  
"I apologize," she spoke, grinding her teeth in the process.  
  
I swear if she ever insults my blood again, not only will I taker her eye, I will hire an ex-con right out of prison to skull fuck her in the empty eye socket, she thought to herself.  
  
O-Ren eased back into the chair, the temporary flare of anger dissipating with each minute.  
  
"To answer your question, Cottonmouth," Bill began as he turned toward her, "No, we will not be honoring the Viper code. Black Mamba ceased being a Viper the moment she ran; therefore she is no longer applicable to our rules. The same thing would go for anyone of you, if you ran. If she had chosen to retire, like Vernita here, then she would. Now I want an answer from you. Will you be there and participate tomorrow?"  
  
O-Ren didn't want to answer, Bill asking her to choose between him and [BEEP], both that she had been loyal to. Choosing between the two was like choosing which arm she wanted to keep while the other was to be cut off. She had the thought of excusing herself from the table, leaving the restaurant and finding a phone in hopes of trying to get in contact with Black Mamba, warning her of Bill and the others. Following that thought would be what she would do after, which would be going back to L.A. on the next possible flight, getting Greg and moving far away from the States, maybe go to one of the small villages on the country side in Japan, somewhere that Bill could never find them. Or maybe moving into the Shaw Brothers Studio, maybe working as a fight choreographer for any of their latest films, where she, Greg and any children they would have, would start over with a clean slate. No assassins, no hit men, no more killing. Oh how tempting the thoughts were.  
  
But then, she looked at the opposite of the fantasy, the truth behind the thoughts. If she ran, and Bill ever found them, they would be as sure as dead. Bill would most likely torture Greg just so that she could hear his screams. Those screams would most likely rip her into shreds. Then he would mostly likely bleed them out for days, a slow death that wouldn't end. Weighing the pros and cons left a heavy burden on her. And she finally made a choice, out of protecting herself and the man she loved. She finally looked at Bill, right in his eyes.  
  
_"Anything for you, Bill,"_ she replied.  
  
Their waiter, dressed as Elvis from "Jailhouse Rock", brought the check. Bill paid for the meal in cash, giving him an extra hundred for a tip.  
  
"Ah thank you," the waiter replied, doing his Elvis impersonation, "Thank you very much."  
  
It was around 9 o'clock El Paso time when O-Ren got back to her room. She entered the bedroom portion of the area, lying back on the bed the moment she sat down. Though she knew it was a few hours early in L.A., she picked up the phone and dialed her apartment, entering in the phone card number she had memorized so long ago. She figured she would leave a message on the machine, letting Greg know that she loved him and that they needed to talk. The phone rang twice before she heard it being picked up.  
  
"Lowndes," she heard his voice on the other end.  
  
"Hello, lover," O-Ren spoke in a warm tone, a smile having to have formed on her face, "I thought you'd still be at work."  
  
"It was slow, so they decided to send me home early."  
  
O-Ren could hear the awkwardness in Greg's voice. She knew him well enough to tell when he felt guilty about something. One such time had been the one patient that got to him, the one that he lost. They were in bed one night, talking like they normally did. Though she had first noticed this at the theater, it became clear as he told her.  
  
"It was my second year working at the E.R. There had been a fifteen car pileup on the 405. There were at least seven people listed as critical. One of them, which I was assigned to with a group, was a five year-old girl. She had a punctured lung and a C-7 fracture in her spine. She couldn't feel her legs. We tried to bag her so that her remaining lung could still get air, but she kept biting out fingers when we tried to pry her mouth open. She kept screaming out for her mom, who had died in the wreck. Over and over she screamed, "I'll be a good girl if you'll let me see my mommy!" Since we were unsuccessful at trying to insert the breathing tube, she eventually drown to death on her own blood. I headed to the break room and splashed some water on my face; you know to calm me down. When I got back, the father was there. He was hysterical; pleading for us to help his daughter, though she had long since past and there was nothing we could have done. "Please, doc," he said, "My baby girl's still warm, please doc." Though it's been years, I swear I can still hear them. I'd be either at the hospital, or alone in public or even here with you. It's like they won't go away."  
  
The low tone he had when told her the story was the same as it was on the phone at that moment.  
  
"Greg," O-Ren tried to begin, "I wanted to..."  
  
"Don't, O-Ren. It was my fault. I don't know why I asked you if you were sleeping with Bill. I guess it's because I'm scared of finding out something about you and it being something bad."  
  
"Your suspicions are correct. I've been keeping a lot of things from you. I do want to tell you what they are, but I want to do it in time. But to ease any worries, no, Bill and I haven't been sleeping with each other. Never have and never will. As for the trips, I can't explain to you right now. But you have my word that I will tell you. I'll tell you whatever you want to know. Just not now. I don't think you're ready. Do you mind waiting?"  
  
"No, I don't mind. I'm curious as to what you are holding back. I mean, you can trust me with whatever it is."  
  
"I know, baby," O-Ren replied, "I can only ask for your patience."  
  
"You've got it, O-Ren."  
  
She wished that she was with him right then, the need for feeling his arms around her being rather strong. She couldn't imagine what would happen if she ever lost him, like so many times before. She was his and he was her. And nothing could ever replace that.  
  
"How did things go down there?" Greg asked, "With her parents, I mean."  
  
Again, she had to spout out more lies.  
  
"They took it rather hard."  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"I am now that I'm hearing your voice."  
  
"When will you be back?"  
  
"Tomorrow, around noon maybe."  
  
"I'm off tomorrow. I'll be sure to do a little cleaning. When you get back here, I'll be scrubbed and polished."  
  
She chuckled lightly. She enjoyed his dry humor amongst the little things she liked. But then again, when it came to love, it's not always about the big things alone, but the little things.  
  
"I've got to go. I'm about to head off to bed."  
  
"Okay," he replied, "Chinese-American or Japanese, it doesn't matter. I love all of you."  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
"Goodnight, my love."  
  
"Goodnight."  
  
She placed the phone back onto its cradle, feeling a bit better about herself. She wasn't sure if it was how he was or his kind 'I love you' that complemented who she was, but she felt somewhat at ease, though the thought about tomorrow still lingered. She got out of bed, stripping down to her underwear. She picked up her bag, heading to the bathroom and making fists with her toes as she did so. She often did that to relieve tension. She knew that killing Black Mamba was going to be difficult, but she did what any rational being would do: She put the thought on hold.  
  
She flossed her teeth first, and then followed it with brushing and rinsing with mouth wash. The mouthwash left a minty flavor in her mouth as she left the bathroom, her switching off the light as she exited. She climbed into bed, the covers feeling rough against her half naked skin.  
  
As she drifted off into the darkness of sleep, she had a brief phantom pain not only in her stomach, but in her head. It felt as if the top of her scalp had been sliced through by some sharp blade. But it was brief, so she paid it no mind as she finally fell asleep, disappearing into the black of unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 5: The Will

(Author's Note: I am going a bit against the norm for this chapter when it comes to finding song lyrics that fit this particular chapter. Seeing that I have tried to find songs from the 50s-70s that would fit this one, with not much luck. So, I'm going to add a couple of 80s-current songs to fit with the story. Also, it has been brought to my attention that both of Sofie's arms are cut off in the Japanese cut of "Kill Bill, Vol. 1". However, I am going with the U.S. cut and we see that her remaining arm after the showdown at the House of Blue Leaves is still intact as the Bride closes the lid of the trunk on Sofie and when Sofie rolls down the hill in front of the Tokyo General Hospital (I've looked at bit on my DVD over and over, and the arm is still intact). I repeat, this is going by the U.S. version of the film, not the Japanese cut, for the fact that I've only seen the U.S. cut. Thank you.)  
  
(_"If You Tolerate This, Your Children Will Be Next"  
by Manic Street Preachers  
  
The future teaches you to be alone  
The present to be afraid and cold  
So if I can shoot rabbits  
Then I can shoot fascists  
  
Bullets for your brain today  
But we'll forget it all again  
Monuments put from pen to paper  
Turns me into a gutless wonder  
  
And if you tolerate this  
Then your children will be next  
And if you tolerate this  
Then your children will be next  
Will be next  
Will be next  
Will be next  
  
Gravity keeps my head down  
Or is it maybe shame  
At being so young and being so vain  
  
Holes in your head today  
But I'm a pacifist  
I've walked La Ramblas  
But not with real intent  
  
And if you tolerate this  
Then your children will be next  
And if you tolerate this  
Then your children will be next  
Will be next  
Will be next  
Will be next  
Will be next  
  
And on the street tonight an old man plays  
With newspaper cuttings of his glory days  
  
And if you tolerate this  
Then your children will be next  
And if you tolerate this  
Then your children will be next  
Will be next  
Will be next  
Will be next_)  
  
CHAPTER 5: The Will  
  
It had been nearly three months since O-Ren died. Greg was already packing up some of his things, putting in a transfer back to the U.S. Though he only had one week left, he felt like he was leaving home to go to some foreign country because he had felt so at home at Tokyo. He was going to go to San Francisco, where his brother Lucas would pick him up from the airport. It was going to be somewhat odd to him being back in the States, probably alienistic in feeling. Even with work and packing, O-Ren still lingered on Greg's every thought. Not even conversations with Kiia helped.  
  
Around his neck was a customized pendant. It was made out of Titanium, it being the size of a Kennedy half dollar in circumference. It was as thick as five of them glued together. On the front were the Japanese and Chinese characters for love. However, the pendant was more like a locket, the inside front having an engraved inscription: O-Ren Ishii, 1974-2003, A love that will continue forever. Also inside was the locket of hair that Greg had taken from her in the morgue, bound together with a leather lace that was also the same kind used for the pendant's band. It rested right against his chest, right on top where his head was. It served as a reminder of the times she used to place her head there, listening to his heartbeat, something she often did after they made love. It was the only spot O-Ren had been, to him at least, being both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness. And it was something he couldn't forget.  
  
The packing required little time, seeing that the furniture and eating utensils were provided with the apartment. He had long since replaced the glass coffee table that he broke when O-Ren had given him a kick right to his stomach. He couldn't say what the fight had been about, but he knew it was before she used that truth stuff on him. Madam Shinata, the building's super attendant, was forgiving when he paid for it.  
  
"Young people full of love," she said, "Though it's a blessing, sometimes some things get broken in the process."  
  
She had seen O-Ren when she followed Greg there, but she didn't see Gogo with two of the Crazy 88 when they arrived, or so she claimed. When it came to the Yakuza, you either didn't see them or you wouldn't be seen again.  
  
Greg had finished putting up his DVD collection when he heard a knock on the door. He wasn't expecting anyone at that time. He figured that it was Madam Shinata, dropping off a check list of things that had to stay. Greg tried to be careful as he stepped over some boxes as he moved through the contemporary style apartment. He walked down the hallway, reaching the door as the person on the opposite side knocked on it again. He wished there had always been a peephole in the door. That would have saved him from trouble if it was on the other side of the door. He turned the knob for the deadbolt and opened it. To his surprise, it was Sofie Fatale.  
  
Her hair was pulled back from her face, sporting a business suit. Her left arm, which had been reattached, rested in a sling that wrapped around the back of her neck. At her side was a briefcase.  
  
"Ms. Fatale. This is a surprise."  
  
"May I come in?"  
  
Greg opened the door wider, so not to have any accidental bumping against Sofie's recovering arm. She had picked up the case as she entered. Sofie hovered a bit when she reached the living room, looking around at the room as she waited for Greg to catch up after he closed the door.  
  
"Can I get you anything?"  
  
"No, thank you," Sofie replied, "I see you're packing."  
  
"Yeah. I'm heading back to the states next week."  
  
"Tokyo General is losing one of its best."  
  
"I doubt I'm the best of Tokyo General, but I can say I tried my best."  
  
"What do you think O-Ren would say about you moving back?"  
  
"Nothing," Greg replied as he took a seat on the couch, "She's dead. Please, Sofie, take a seat."  
  
She complied, placing her briefcase on the coffee table in front of her. Greg was a bit curious as to what she was doing there. But he was as equally curious about why she brought the brief case, black leather with gold colored latches. He began to assume that she may have been on her way to taking care of some sort of legal issues of some sort. He never had to deal with such issues before.  
  
"I didn't see you at the funeral," she began, "Why weren't you there?"  
  
He dreaded that question, knowing sooner or later that he'd have to answer it.  
  
"I was on duty at the E.R. We had to deal with a car vs. semi truck accident."  
  
That had been a lie. The true reason he didn't go was because he wasn't sure if O-Ren would have really wanted him to be there. He had already said his goodbye to her in the morgue. Would she really have wanted him to be there, along with her criminal associates and friends whom he had never seen before? What would he have said if he were asked how he knew O-Ren? He had stayed home that day, making the decision on if she should leave Japan. He felt so much at home there.  
  
"How was it?"  
  
"It was beautiful. Even up to the last second."  
  
"So, Sofie, what do I owe for your company here today?"  
  
"I'm here because of some important legal issues dealing with O-Ren's death."  
  
She reached forward, grabbing a hold and laying flat the briefcase. She used her only workable hand to unlatch and open it.  
  
"I'm not sure if you're aware, not only was I O-Ren's friend and second lieutenant, but I was also her lawyer. Now that I am slowly regaining my position as a member of the legal community, I am now trying to catch up with matters that could have been dealt with a few months back if it had not been for my arm being reattached."  
  
She began to lay out two envelopes and what appeared to be some sort of contract. The first envelope was a bit thick, while the second one was flat. Greg was curious about what were in the envelopes.  
  
"O-Ren left a will. She had it filled out a month before her demise. In the will, there are some details of O-Ren's estate that had been handed over to you. There are some details I am to discuss with you."  
  
"Look, Sofie, I don't want anything."  
  
"I'm afraid you have no choice, Greg. O-Ren stated that these details be handled regardless of if you want them or not."  
  
Sofie pushed the thick envelope forward towards him.  
  
"The first detail of the estate happens to deal with money. O-Ren, at the time of her death was worth thirty million dollars from not only her previous line of work, but from stocks she purchased. The amount is to be divided into three for each of the groups: The first is for me, seeing that I was there for her the past few years. The second is to the Yubari sisters, whom O-Ren had an acquaintance with. The final is you. You are free to do whatever you wish with the money, however, you have been awarded additional stock for one sole purpose. With the stock and money, you are asked to open a center or organization for children who have lost their families to crime-related deaths. It was O-Ren's wish to save children from the kind of life she ended up being in. Inside this envelope is a cash advance of a thousand and four hundred dollars, U.S. currency, of course. The rest of the money is being transferred to an account that you have access to, right as we speak."  
  
He couldn't believe that O-Ren wanted him to do that, funding him to help people. Though he had treated her cruelly the last portion of her life, she still cared enough to leave some kind of legacy. Not a legacy of pain, but a legacy of hope.  
  
"The second detail is that O-Ren wanted you to handle was that she wanted you to scatter her ashes."  
  
"I thought she was buried."  
  
"No. She requested that she would be cremated and her ashes scatted at the lot of her family's old home. She told me that the reason for it was because she felt that she really died there the night Matsumoto had her parents killed. So, she wanted her body to be cremated and ashes scattered there, so she would be at rest with her parents. She chose you to scatter them."  
  
Greg was a bit surprised by this.  
  
"Okay," he said, almost in a low whisper, "Where are they?"  
  
"Come by O-Ren's apartment. The urn will be there. The third item you are asked to handle, is this."  
  
Sofie touched the flat envelope, pushing it forward a bit. There was an ink stamp print on the top right corner of the front. In the middle, O-Ren's handwriting: To B.  
  
"What's in it?" Greg asked.  
  
"I don't know. All I know is that O-Ren wanted you to deliver it to Black Mamba. Black Mamba is the code name for..."  
  
"I know who she is, Sofie. I just don't know where she may be."  
  
"I know. You may have to try your best to track her down."  
  
He couldn't believe that she left him in charge for just one partial delivery. He couldn't think of any way to find out where she may have gone. But that was the last of his worries for the time being.  
  
"I just need you to sign this document for legal purposes, saying that you understand what you are to do and that you have received the proper information on your tasks."  
  
She pulled out a pen from the case, handing it over to him. He knew he was about to shoulder some responsibilities, but he understood why these particular tasks were given to him. They were all tasks for someone who cared. They were tasks for someone who cared about those who were still innocent in the world. She knew when she made it out that it was what he was doing as a doctor, saving lives to keep himself innocent. Though he did lose one child in the E.R., O-Ren's requests were not only redemption for what she did, but it was Greg's chance at redeeming himself by saving others, even though it didn't make up for saving her. He signed the contract, ready to take on the tasks ahead. Because if he didn't care, who else would? Sofie placed the document back into the briefcase, along with the pen.  
  
"O-Ren asked me to give you some things, not as a lawyer, but as her friend. There are several items she wanted you to have. You can pick them up when you pick up the urn."  
  
She closed the latches to the case one at a time, before getting up.  
  
"Sofie, I do want to ask you something. What did she leave for you, other than the money?"  
  
Sofie stood quietly for a moment, almost as if she were observing some moment of silence. She finally looked at Greg, her eyes half watery.  
  
"She's left me in charge of the Crazy 88, or what's left of it anyways. And should I find someone to love and have a child, they would receive the legacy. I'm a bad person, Greg, and I am forever damned."  
  
"I'm sorry, Sofie."  
  
"Don't be. It was a path I chose for myself, much like how O-Ren chose hers. At any time, she could have left, not that it mattered much. Because after you left, she had no reason to leave. I would have left, but I stayed because I cared about her. Now, I stay, for her, knowing I have to become a killer to survive. It's a jungle, you know. You have to become a carnivore in order to make it through. I was a herbivore under the protection of a carnivore. Angels don't tread here in this territory."  
  
She had begun to wipe away the oncoming tears. Her eyes foretold the future of her. He wondered if his eyes had the same kind of sadness.  
  
"Do you have a religion you believe in, Sofie?"  
  
"I did once. I was a Catholic."  
  
"I take it O-Ren didn't have any beliefs."  
  
"She believed there is a God. But then again, most assassins do. O-Ren believed that when she killed Matsumoto, she was delivering his wrath. And every hit she performed was to the wicked, those who deserved to die. That was before, of course."  
  
"Before what?"  
  
"Before you left. After that, she never mentioned him. She also believed in Heaven and in purgatory. I'm not sure if she believed if there was a Hell. But she did believe in trying to do the right thing. It was only after you left she became lost. Though she used to smile, it never hid the fact to me that she still carried the void you left."  
  
She took a hold of the handle for the briefcase.  
  
"Do you think I overracted?" Greg asked.  
  
"I think you reacted like anyone else would. If there were ever anything that anyone overdone, I think she overestimated her chances of getting back with you. At least her expectations were laid to rest that night she used "The Undisputed Truth" on you. She understood what you reacted to and why."  
  
"I feel sorry that she's gone. I feel like I failed her."  
  
"You couldn't do anything to fail her, Greg. If there was ever one thing you did, letting her down wasn't it."  
  
Greg got up, escorting Sofie to the door. He opened it for her, like the gentleman he normally was. As she stepped out into the hallway, she turned back.  
  
"If you'd like to, I can leave you my cell phone number when you come to pick up the items from O-Ren's apartment. Just in case you need to talk or need any help with anything."  
  
Greg had the feeling of having Sofie's number being a good idea, him not sure of why. He nodded in reply.  
  
"Sure," he said, almost low.  
  
Sofie herself nodded, almost as if she understood why he agreed to.  
  
"I'll see you around, Greg."  
  
She began to head down the hall, disappearing from view when she stepped into the elevator.  
  
-------------------------  
  
Two days later.  
  
-------------------------  
  
The guards had let him up without any problems. It was familiar territory for him, seeing that he recalled being brought there before and against his will. That time, he had to find enough strength inside himself in order to be there. He came unrestrained by anyone and by his own choice, knowing that he had to be there. As he stepped off the elevator onto O-Ren's old floor, he noticed some crates and furniture lining both sides of the hallway. There were a few movers carrying out certain items into the hallway, preparing them to be taken down to their moving van. Greg moved his way through the maze that the crates and furniture made until he reached the open door of the apartment.  
  
The place looked a lot different to him, missing not just the furniture and there being a few crates standing like Monoliths from "2001: A Space Odyssey", but appearing to have lost life like its previous owner. He could hear talking come from one of the other rooms, him finally narrowing in on the study. He looked in through the open doors as he stepped around the corner, not wanting to pass through the threshold. All of the videos that ran around the room on the shelves were gone, as were the flat screen TV and DVD player. He saw the sofa out in the hall on his way in, but the twin solo chairs were gone. He saw Sofie sitting at the bar, dressed in a light blue kimono, talking into her cell phone with a straight face. She had it pinned between her ear and her right shoulder, so she could write down something on a tablet. Greg knocked on the door lightly, which caught Sofie's attention. She held up her hand for a moment, as if she were asking for a moment. She put the pen down, saying something into the phone a moment before she hung up.  
  
"You've come," she said, "Can I get you anything to drink?"  
  
"No. I just came for O-Ren and the things she asked you to give me."  
  
She motioned for him to come closer. It took him three steps before she motioned for him to stop. She pointed to the counter, his eyes following the direction until they met what she was pointing at.  
  
There, sitting on the counter was O-Ren's urn, its metal body slightly shining and slightly muted in the light. Next to it was a rectangle shaped laundry basket, the open slits in it revealing what appeared to be books of some sort. On top of that was what Greg knew as O-Ren's sword. Greg noticed the sheath of the sword was different, there being what appeared to be a white stripe as thin as a Number 2 pencil near the end of it.  
  
"There are the things O-Ren wanted you to have. Her sword, her diaries and a photo album. The sheath of the sword was damaged during O-Ren's last fight. I got it repaired so that it would properly be given to you, intact."  
  
Greg picked up the sword, rolling it around in his hands. He noticed the small holographic snowflake decals on the handle's left side. He felt strange holding the sword, it being the last thing that O-Ren held in the final moments of her life. It was at that moment he recalled something from his graduation from medical school. Dr. Emmett McCall said at the graduation of the class, "In this field of work, you'll be there when some enter the world and when some leave it." He wished he had been there at O-Ren's side in those final seconds, at least try to say goodbye for the final time and help her go in peace if she did have any pain.  
  
"The sword was made by Kithara Tzu," Sofie continued, bringing Greg back to the present time, "Its quality equally matches a..."  
  
She went silent for a brief moment, shifting in her seat. She also cleared her throat before she began again.  
  
"Its quality equally matches a Hattori Hanzo sword. This sword was given to O-Ren by Bill on her 26th birthday, before she began her task on taking over the Japanese underworld."  
  
"Why give me the sword? I mean, I have no use for it."  
  
"That was actually the thing I told her. She said something that seemed odd. I'm not sure what it meant. She said, 'This sword has taken its share of lives. It will eventually give life to one.' It was two days before she died when she said that, though I still do not know what it means."  
  
Greg knew for a fact that he wasn't going to be using the sword in the same manner as O-Ren had, to kill anyone with it. He thought about giving it to Sofie, but she would have most likely refused like when he told her that he didn't want anything from O-Ren's will. Greg lowered the sword to his side, holding it by the sheath in his left hand. He looked at the laundry basket and the urn, coming to realize something.  
  
"I can't carry all of this."  
  
"Hold on a moment," Sofie said as she turned toward the doorway, "Sonny!"  
  
Greg turned around to see a member of the Crazy 88 come into the room. He recognized him right away. He had an eye patch over his right eye under the Kato mask, a scar running from his right ear to his cheek bone on the same side. Sofie scribbled down something on a piece of paper, tearing it off and handing it to Greg.  
  
_"Help Dr. Lowndes with the box, please,"_ she said to Sonny before turning back to Greg, "That's the address where O-Ren's home used to be. I left my cell phone number inside the photo album. Don't be afraid to call if you need anything."  
  
Greg folded the paper and shoved it into his pocket. He picked up the urn before Sonny reached the bar for the box. Greg stood for a moment, looking at Sofie. He was wondering if he should have felt sorry or happy for her, for the fact that she was now the leader of the Crazy 88, a position she may have never thought about getting in her life and having to do things that she may not really want to do. Sofie held out her free hand, the look of friendliness in her eyes. Greg took a hold of her hand, slowly shaking it.  
  
"Good-bye, Greg," Sofie said, "Thank you for all you've done."  
  
Greg nodded lightly.  
  
"What I do is never enough anymore."  
  
Sofie let out a small chuckle, following that by a light smile. That would probably most likely be the last one for the time being, with an occasional rare one she'll be able to have. Greg headed for the door, the one-eyed Crazy 88 member following not too far behind him. Greg led the way to the elevator, traversing through the maze of crates and furniture. He pressed the call button for the elevator, both of them waiting for it to arrive. Greg looked at Sonny for a moment.  
  
_"I'm sorry,"_ he said.  
  
_"What about, Doctor?"_ Sonny asked.  
  
_"About O-Ren. And the loss of your eye."_  
  
_"You and the people of Tokyo General did their best you could. There are few that are still in recovery, like Madam Fatale. But we will remember Madam Ishii, with honor and respect. Are you to scatter the ashes of her?"_  
  
Greg nodded just as the doors finally opened. As they got in, Greg used the hilt of the sword to press the button, still keeping his grip on the sheath in his left hand and holding the urn to his stomach with his right.  
  
_"Did you know Madam Ishii well?"_  
  
_"Yes, I did."_  
  
_"Who were you to her,"_ Sonny asked, _"That is if you don't mind me for asking?"_  
  
Greg was silent for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. It was what he had feared to answer, the thing that kept him away from the funeral. He eventually found the right words looking Sonny in the eye with respect.  
  
_"I was the one who loved her and broke her heart,"_ he said just as the doors to the elevator closed.


	6. Chapter 6: Reunion

(_"Crying"  
By Roy Orbison  
  
I was all right for a while  
I could smile for a while  
But I saw you last night  
You held my hand so tight  
When you stopped to say hello  
You wished me well  
You couldn't tell that I've been crying over you,  
Crying over you  
And you said "So long" Left me standing all alone,  
Alone and crying, crying, crying, crying  
  
It's hard to understand  
But the touch of your hand can start me crying  
  
I thought that I was over you  
But it's true, so true  
I love you even more than I did before  
But darling, what can I do?  
For you don't love me  
And I'll always be crying over you, crying over you  
  
Yes now you're gone  
And from this moment on, I'll be crying, crying, crying, crying  
Yeah, crying, crying over you_)  
  
CHAPTER 6: Reunion  
  
If there was one thing O-Ren ever asked herself about anything in her life at that time, it would have to be why Gogo wore schoolgirl outfits. O-Ren was paying a private tutor to educate the unstable teen, there being no need to worry about Gogo killing a teacher or a group of students and the public finding out about it. She didn't want to be responsible for a Tokyo version of Columbine. She may have been cold-blooded, but not cold-blooded like Matsumoto had been. It was something she swore to herself, no more harming of innocent bystanders. She made that promise after that day in El Paso, swearing to herself that she would never harm any innocent bystanders ever again, only criminals, thugs and those who have done wrong. And that included through inaction. There was that one man that Gogo killed at the bar a while back, but O-Ren had a little checking done and found out he had been stealing money from over a dozen trust funds from the bank he worked at, those left by the grandparents to their grandchildren. Gogo, though she was heavily intoxicated, was able to spot the criminal very well. Not only that, but buying a teenage girl 18 glasses plus half a bottle of sake, the man obviously had intentions other than a normal one night stand. Gogo handled herself well. Excessively, but well.  
  
Both O-Ren and Gogo were at the bar in the study, with O-Ren tending it. She slid a glass of milk in front of the sleepy-eyed teenager. O-Ren wasn't sure if it was from a hang over or from being exhausted from sex, though they did seem to give off the same down effect on Gogo. O-Ren actually had suspicions that Gogo was having sex with the tutor, but not during the teaching.  
  
At least she's learning first and then fucking him, O-Ren thought, if she is, in fact, fucking him.  
  
O-Ren decided to have a glass herself. She loved milk. It was the only thing that reminded her of the good times in her childhood. O-Ren remembered Greg liked lemonade. There were only two kinds of people in life, lemonade people and milk people, much like how a man can be either an Elvis man or a Beatles man. O-Ren wasn't sure if Gogo was a lemonade person or a milk person. She did know that she was a warm sake person, that's for sure. The teen had her head propped up with one arm, her elbow on the counter.  
  
_"Anything on your mind, Gogo?"_  
  
_"How the fuck can you stand being up this early?"_  
  
O-Ren checked the clock on the wall next to the counter, it reading 9:42 a.m. O-Ren had forgotten the reason why humans required less sleep as they got old. She could have sworn it was about the metabolism, but couldn't be sure. She was 29 years old and yet she kept awaking at 4:23 a.m. Surely enough, she knew that she wasn't old enough to need four or five hours of sleep.  
  
They were waiting on Sofie to arrive. Normally, Sofie would have been there at 9 a.m., 9:30 at latest, depending on traffic from her place to the building. But, the day before, they had gone to meet Bill at one of the small villages outside Tokyo, which was before he got caught up in a fight that delayed their meeting. When they got back to Tokyo that evening, O-Ren noticed that Sofie didn't appear to be very well.  
  
"Are you okay, Sofie?" O-Ren asked.  
  
"I'm okay," she replied, "I probably ate something that disagreed with me."  
  
O-Ren came back from the thought when she heard the phone ringing. She walked over to it, finishing up the glass of milk before she got to it.  
  
_"Yes?"_ she spoke into the phone.  
  
_"Ms. Fatale is here to see you."_  
  
_"Send her up."_  
  
O-Ren hung up the phone, a bit relieved. She was beginning to think that something bad had happened to Sofie. Before she knew it, there was a knock on the door and Sofie entered the study.  
  
_"I apologize for being late,"_ she spoke.  
  
O-Ren noticed the discomfort look on Sofie's face, it seeming like the look one would have from sort of internal pain. Sofie had provided a set of coughs, which resulted in her breathing to sound a bit wheezy.  
  
_"Sofie, are you alright?"  
  
"I just feel a bit weird in my chest."_  
  
Gogo quickly slipped off the stool, taking a few steps back and away from Sofie.  
  
_"If she's sick, I don't want it,"_ Gogo spoke.  
  
_"I'm not..."_ Sofie stopped mid sentence, her words sounding like she were gurgling on water. She let out a hard cough, hoping to fix it, _"I'm not sick. I'm just not feeling well."_  
  
_"You don't sound good, Sofie. Gogo, get the car ready."_  
  
Gogo complied, hurrying out of the room and around Sofie. Gogo always tried to keep herself fit and healthy, so she could be there to protect O-Ren. And in doing so, she would avoid anyone who showed some kind of symptom of illness. O-Ren, however, could have cared less at that moment about her own health, more concerned about Sofie as she moved around the bar. She moved Sofie over to the bar, placing her on the stool that Gogo sat on. Sofie was breathing normally, but her breathing was still sounding wheezy.  
  
"I guess it wasn't something you ate after all," O-Ren spoke in English.  
  
"I'm sorry about this. I know you had plans for today."  
  
She did have plans that day. She was going to meet several new recruits to the Crazy 88 army, welcoming them into the family like a mother welcoming children home. It was her way of being a mother figure. But she could easily do that the next day or later that week. She'd just have to contact Johnny Mo and inform him of the unexpected setback.  
  
"Don't worry about it, Sofie. We're taking you to a doctor, so you can get checked on and get back on your feet in no time at all."  
  
Sofie began to go into a coughing fit, it appearing to be hard and deep coughs. She closed her mouth rather quickly, looking around for something. O-Ren looked around, thinking she knew what it was that Sofie needed. She picked up the glass of mil that she slid in front of Gogo a few moments before, handing it to Sofie. And she was right. Sofie spit out what appeared to be a large wad of flim into the milk. O-Ren headed around the bar and dumped it out in the sink, washed out the cup and then filled it with water for Sofie to drink. She wasn't sure why she was so caring when it came to Sofie. Maybe it was some sort of instinct that she couldn't identify or one she didn't want to name. She couldn't give it THAT sort of name, seeing that she never was what she came close to being. Or maybe it was the fact that Sofie was her friend and had been there for her when she needed her. The phone on the wall rang, O-Ren quickly answering it.  
  
_"The car is ready,"_ she heard Gogo's voice on the other end.  
  
Before escorting Sofie downstairs to the car, O-Ren picked up her leopard print coat and her sword from her bedroom. Just because she was tending to a sick friend didn't mean she wasn't going out without a weapon. At that point in time, many of the yakuza clan leaders didn't want her to succeed in her quest, especially those who believed that a man should be the leader, a belief that had long since been established back before she was born (probably further back than that, before they were ever born). But like a woman's right to vote and have equal shares at work in the U.S., times would have to change to live up to the modern world. But the change would have to wait for a short while, at least until Sofie's health was attended to.  
  
The private doctor that O-Ren normally used was out of town for a few weeks. So, seeing that he was on a vacation, O-Ren took her friend to Tokyo General Hospital. She was somewhat glad, not for the fact that she wasn't dealing with a job related injury like a gunshot wound, but the fact that there weren't many people in the waiting area in the Emergency Room. She wasn't sure if that was the right place in the hospital to take Sofie, but where else could she have taken her? Gogo told O-Ren she was going to the cafeteria, again, probably avoiding people who may be sick. O-Ren stayed with Sofie, filling out Sofie's paperwork and, in the process, realizing she knew very little about Sofie's medical past, except for the mental health area for the past four years.  
  
The nurse finally came to take Sofie to a room, but Sofie didn't want to be alone. O-Ren agreed to stay with her. With the florescent lighting in the place, O-Ren thought it made everything and everyone look sick. It really didn't have the ray of hopeful health that the Emergency Room at Mercy Hospital had. But then again, Tokyo General and Mercy Hospital were miles apart, in separate countries. O-Ren stuck to Sofie's side as they walked down the hall, past what appeared to be several examination rooms, for what may appear to be used for when a patient in major need of medical assistance and quickly would be wheeled in.  
  
The nurse escorted them into a patient room. It appeared almost dark and gloomy, even with the lights. The nurse had ushered them in before heading off for some other duties. O-Ren understood the feeling that Sofie had, about not wanting to be there alone. Just being there must have calmed Sofie down a bit. Sofie coughed a bit, her breathing sounding wheezy again. O-Ren hoped that whatever it was that Sofie had wasn't something serious. At that moment, a young woman entered into the room, wearing a white coat. She seemed young to be a doctor.  
  
_"Hello,"_ she spoke, _"I am Nurse Giga. I will be assisting the doctor who will be examining Ms. Fatale."_  
  
Seeing that they were going to be waiting for the doctor, Nurse Giga helped Sofie change into a patient gown. O-Ren had sat her sword down on the bed, neatly folding the articles of clothing as Sofie removed them and placing them in a nice stack on the bed. Caring and concern for another person was the only thing that didn't die within the past four years. She was often glad that it didn't, or she would have been nothing more than a lifeless corpse that didn't catch onto the fact that she was dead. Living without emotions was a continuous and lifeless life. She suppressed emotions, yes, only when she needed to. But sometimes they still overwhelmed her when she least expected them to. She may have been a killer, but she was still a human being.  
  
"Good morning, Ms. Fatale," O-Ren heard the voice of the doctor, causing her to stop mid-fold.  
  
Memories began to resurface rather quickly, from the first time they met to the sinking feeling she had when he left. It took all of the will she had to make herself look up, finally making eye contact with the doctor.  
  
Greg appeared almost as he had when she last saw him, with the exception of a five o'clock shadow slowly forming. He was staring at her with cool eyes, the kind anyone would have if they saw a familiar person they hated. But O-Ren knew him. She remembered how kind he was. He wouldn't keep a grudge for a week, let alone four years. Greg turned his attention to Sofie, his eyes showing a little bit of warmth and a smile forming. Nurse Giga helped Sofie back onto the bed as he pulled a pen out of the breast pocket of his doctor's coat.  
  
"Ms. Fatale, I'm Dr. Lowndes. How are you feeling?"  
  
"Not very well, doctor," she replied before she followed with a set of wet coughs.  
  
Greg had his stethoscope hanging from around the back of his neck, which he proceeded to take down and place on the bed next to Sofie. O-Ren felt as if she were in a daze, missing out on the discussion that Greg and Sofie were having. She paid attention to his hands as he wrote something down on a clipboard. She had waited so long to see Greg again. Her heart was telling her to go to him, to meet his lips with hers. She, however, held back. Her mind was telling her it wasn't the best time. She was there for Sofie, not for Greg. O-Ren noticed Sofie looking at her. O-Ren knew that Sofie knew that the doctor who was about to treat her was the one that O-Ren had told her about.  
  
"Miss," Greg said, looking over at O-Ren, "I have to ask you to leave."  
  
"Doctor," Sofie interrupted, "I would like her to stay. I really don't feel comfortable here by myself and her being here is helpful."  
  
Greg looked at Sofie for a moment and then nodded. Greg picked up the stethoscope and moved around to where he was behind her. He placed the plugs into his ears, placing the head of it against her back. O-Ren watched Greg as her asked her to inhale a few times. After a moment, he moved around to front of Sofie, asking her to lower her gown's top. He placed the head against her chest, right above the center between her breasts. O-Ren knew that Sofie's measurements were 34-25-37, something that any perverted male would be interested to know. But not Greg at that moment. Greg always focused on trying to solve the problem the patient may be having, particularly when it came to dealing with women patients. O-Ren recalled one time when she panicked, thinking that she may have felt a lump in her breast. She got Greg to do an examination to either confirm or deny her fears of having breast cancer in the bathroom of their apartment. She noticed some sort of stillness in his eyes as he felt her right breast, having to see it in the reflection of the mirror they were both in front of. He had been standing very close to notice if he became excited, but there was no response from him. She had asked him about it a week later.  
  
"My focus is always on the task. I have to close my mind off on such details and think about the task. For me, some of the time, I look at the patient as a person, at others, I see a jigsaw puzzle that needs to be solved. Besides, thinking about sex is distracting while at work, much like work being a distraction during sex. Plus, I think the female patients would get the wrong idea if I had a hard on during an examination."  
  
Sofie began coughing hard after inhaling deeply. Greg took a step back, giving her some room. She closed her mouth, much like before. Greg motioned for Nurse Giga to grab some napkins from the dispenser on the counter. She did so, passing them off to him, who in turn passed them to Sofie. She spit out a wad of flim the size of a half-dollar coin and folded it up. Greg held out his hand so that he could pass it to Nurse Giga.  
  
"You can go ahead and put the gown back up, Ms. Fatale."  
  
She did so after passing the napkins back to him.  
  
"We're going to have to do a couple of more tests to find out what's wrong, that includes blood samples. But before we do any of those, we're going to take you to get an X-Ray of your chest. Whatever it is, it sounds like it's in that area."  
  
"Should I be worried?" Sofie asked as she threaded her arms through the sleeves."  
  
"Not at all. I'm sure whatever it is, its nothing major."  
  
Nurse Giga stepped out of the room, coming back with a wheelchair. They made their way down the hall, heading towards X-Ray. Greg took over for Nurse Giga in pushing the wheelchair, so that she could help out with a patient who was refusing to stay in bed. O-Ren walked a few steps behind Greg, keeping her eyes locked onto him. There wasn't going to be any way she was going to lose track of him again, or at least she hoped. They stepped up to the door just as a rather beautiful young woman stepped out, carrying an X-Ray.  
  
_"Greg, I'm glad you're here,"_ she said, _"Can I ask you to have a look at this?"_  
  
_"Sure, Kiia,"_ Greg replied, _"I'll have to look at it while I'm waiting for Ms. Fatale's X-Rays to be done."_  
  
_"Who?"_ Kiia asked.  
  
_"Ms. Sofie Fatale, here."_ Greg motioned towards Sofie as she sat in the wheel chair.  
  
_"Oh, my apologies, Ms. Fatale."_  
  
Kiia had bowed a couple of times in a gesture of respect.  
  
_"It's not a problem,"_ Sofie replied.  
  
O-Ren made eye contact for a moment with Kiia as she turned to walk off. She noticed the warm smile that Kiia gave towards her, indicating that Greg had not told anyone of their relationship. It was another link in the long chain of questions she wanted to ask. Greg turned around to look at O-Ren over his shoulder.  
  
"There's not enough room inside for four people. I have to ask you to stay out here until we're through."  
  
"Okay," was the only thing that O-Ren could say.  
  
Greg knocked on the door, a technician inside opening it for them. Greg and Sofie disappeared inside, the door closing by the unseen tech person. O-Ren closed her eyes as she moved over to the wall next to the door, trying to remoisten them from being open for so long. She wanted to be alone with Greg so she could reconnect with him, to love him like she had before. But it appeared that he hadn't forgiven her for what she had done. Maybe if Greg had been a cold-blooded killer like her, he would have understood why she did it. But he wasn't. He was a doctor, one who helped healed the wounded and the ill, sometimes bringing those on the brink of death back to the land of the living. She placed her back against the wall as she recalled one time when they were alone. She found out a bit about Greg's family long before she met them. They had been bathing together, one of the things that they often did during times when they were both off from work.  
  
"My father was a Christian priest back in the 70s. That was until he left."  
  
"Why did he leave? Did he lose his faith?"  
  
"No, O-Ren, nothing like that. He used to tell my mom that whenever he felt that God felt that he was finished preaching, that he had completed the work that God wanted him to perform, that he would quit. And he eventually did. As a result, he now restores old style weaponry. He takes old guns and repairs them, sometimes restoring them back into mint condition. He's even done a few museum pieces, like for the Smithsonian. My mother owns a hair saloon. She used to cut hair, but now she just runs it. In fact, she met my father at the saloon. How funny is that?"  
  
"What about your brother...? What was his name again? Luke?"  
  
"No, hon, Lucas. You were close. He runs a hard to find video store called 'Rolling Thunder Video', named after his favorite movie."  
  
"Well, if the store is hard to find, then why doesn't he relocate it?"  
  
Greg laughed for a minute before finding enough breath to explain.  
  
"The videos he rents and sales are hard to find prints, not the store."  
  
O-Ren had felt a little sheepish about the error she made.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"No, it's okay. People always make that mistake. And he's very good at his job. He loves movies a lot. He's got both the rated and unrated copies of "The Street Fighter". He really likes the old exploitation movies and some genre movies. He wanted to be a film director, he still does as far as I know. He even told me this story idea he wanted to do as his first film. The plot involved six guys in a warehouse after a diamond heist gone wrong and one of them being a cop. When I heard the idea, I was like, 'Lucas, who's going to watch a film that's been done in some many ways before, even with the scene where one of the criminal's cuts off the ear of a cop to some one hit wonder song from the 70s?" Don't get me wrong, he's had some good ideas once in a while, but who would watch a retro film?"  
  
"There's nothing wrong with them. Just as long as they're good."  
  
O-Ren retrieved her Kandy Purple Pearl colored cell phone from the pocket of her leopard coat, using a couple of keys to speed dials Johnny Mo's cell phone. She got his voice mail, leaving him a message. She didn't feel uncomfortable there in the ER, but it did bring back a memory that she didn't want, about another area pertaining to the medical field, a private office. At the time, Greg was pulling a 24 hour shift. She had gotten up at 3 a.m., gotten there by 4 a.m. She would have gone to Bill to get him to set up an appointment with a doctor that he trusted, but she didn't want anyone, not Bill, not Greg, not even any of the other Vipers, to know about what she was going to do. At that time anyway, Bill was still mourning BEEP's "death". She had no idea why she was thinking about that particular event. Maybe it was the lighting or the setting, or the clean, sanitized smell. Or maybe it was the fact her feelings for Greg still remained as strong as they had been four years ago.  
  
It didn't take long for them to perform the X-rays that were required. While O-Ren waited with Sofie in the room, Greg had attended to Dr. Shibata and other duties while Nurse Giga drew blood samples from Sofie to test. It felt like hours passing by, though it wasn't very long. Eventually, Greg returned, keeping his attention on Sofie. He had the X-rays, sliding them into the viewer that hung on the wall near the bed. He switched on the light, allowing Sofie and O-Ren to see them. On the X-ray, the bottom portion of both lungs had what appeared to be whiteness.  
  
"Ms. Fatale, we've figured out what's wrong. You have pneumonia. What you see here, at the bottom of your lungs, is the flim that you are coughing up. You're in luck that this isn't really a severe case. We've got at it in the early stages."  
  
"How long will it take until I am well again, doctor?" Sofie asked.  
  
"Well, by going on medication right now, you can nearly be well in a week. You'd still have a little bit of flim left to cough up, but you'll be back to fully operational in life. However, I have something I want you to think about. Even though you'll have to spend a week in bed, you can either receive your treatment here at the hospital or you can treat yourself at home where you can sleep in your own bed. Most often go for home, however we won't be able to keep track wit how much liquid is left in your lungs. That means that after a week, you'll have to come in for a follow-up examination. Either way is a choice you'll have to make."  
  
O-Ren took Sofie's hand into hers, a friendly reminder that she was still there for her, no matter which choice Sofie made.  
  
"I'll take the risk of taking my medication at home, doctor."  
  
Greg nodded.  
  
"Okay. Go ahead and get ready. Nurse Giga will be back with some papers for you to sign and a prescription for some medication. Remember to read the labels for instructions. Also, drink lots of liquids, nonalcoholic preferably, like water or Gatorade. The more flim you cough up, the more that's out of your system. So, remember, if you have the need to cough, do it. Just have a trash can near by to spit flim in, okay?"  
  
Greg wrote something down on the chart before removing the X-rays from the viewer. O-Ren knew he was about to exit, turning to Sofie for a moment.  
  
"I'll be right back," she said, "I'd like to speak with him."  
  
Sofie nodded. O-Ren picked up her sword and followed after him. She noticed him taking much bigger steps in stride, almost as if he were trying to escape someone. They had gotten out into the hall.  
  
"Greg!" O-Ren called out.  
  
He came to a stop in his tracks. It took a moment for him to turn and look at her. She noticed the cold stare again, the coldness sharper than any samurai sword, even a Hattori Hanzo sword. She was sure that it would eventually fade after a while of getting back together, that it was some sort of defense mechanism that he developed within the time they were apart. She had hoped he would forgive her. He quoted a scholar one time when it came to her asking about enemies he may have had: "A doctor doesn't see good or bad, just well and unwell." That was what gave her hope. She took a few steps forward, closing the distance between them a bit. She didn't want to rush. There was no need for it. They had all the time in the world, or at least she hoped. She also didn't want to startle him. Closer, yet still distant.  
  
"Can we talk?" O-Ren asked, "In private?"  
  
She noticed Greg biting his lower lip lightly. He didn't say a word, just waved sharply to follow him. And she did, following three steps behind him. She noticed the slight stiffness in his walk and how he seemed to be slouching forward. It was often the stance and walk of someone who was in anger and it was a common one. That had to be the first time O-Ren had seen Greg do it. But that wasn't her concern.  
  
He led her to what appeared to be a conference room. It was a tad bit bigger than the patient room that she had been in with Sofie and looked like one that would most likely be found in an office building. She concluded rather quickly that was where a lot of the business side of the medical field had their meetings. And how fitting it was. She was there on business. Personal business, now. And their meeting was going to begin. She had various thoughts floating in and out of her mind. A few were of the sexual kind, like throwing Greg onto the table, ripping his pants off and hardcore fucking pursuing to make up for the lack of time they've had, her having his way with him or vise-versa. But those thoughts were meaningless. She wasn't there for the body. What she yearned for was something else.  
  
O-Ren placed the sword on the table, turning around to see Greg closing the door behind him. Again, there was a small distance between them.  
  
"What do you want, O-Ren?" he asked her, his voice low and icy, just like the look in his eyes.  
  
O-Ren didn't care about the look as she slowly stepped towards him. Though the coldness of hate was in his eyes, she was sure the warmth of love was in hers. She had long since forgotten the taste of his lips, but the memory came back as they made contact. She tried to wrap her arms around him, wanting to hold him, but she felt her wrists being held and tightly to the point of pain. She kept kissing him, hungry for him to return. But he did not return it, his lips completely still.  
  
Please, Greg, she thought, Open up to me again. Return to me, return to my life, my side, where I want you... Where I need you. Please.  
  
Without warning, she felt her lips being ripped free from Greg's. She let out a small yelp of being startled, feeling the table as it slammed hard into the back of her thighs. She managed to catch herself from falling back onto the table. She was confused for a moment, not sure what had happened. Greg pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, harshly wiping at his mouth as if trying to erase the feeling of her lips off his. Though the confusion was temporary, she realized what had happened, just as he closed the door behind himself as he exited the room: He pushed her away.  
  
The familiar sinking feel had returned, this time being stronger than it had before. She tried to keep the tears back, to keep a solid composure at least until she could find somewhere to be completely alone without someone most likely to notice her. She took deep breaths as she left the conference room with her sword in hand. The hurt she felt had cut deep down into her very being. It was so deep that she again once felt a phantom pain in her stomach. She managed to make it outside. O-Ren finally began to lose control and had to let go, when she got to the ambulance parking area, no longer able to hold back.  
  
How can he still hate me? After all this time, he still hates me?  
  
If there was one thing she didn't get about men was their reaction towards some of the wrong things women do. But what O-Ren did wasn't taking drugs or cheating on Greg. The crime she committed was far worse, and she knew that there was no apology for it. And Greg, be it from the religion he was familiar with or from his own morality or moral code, had not forgotten. Nor did he forgive O-Ren for what she did to both of them. But then again, how could any man?  
  
She had finally let the pain out, purging herself of it. She didn't want Sofie or Gogo to know she had been crying. She pulled out a napkin that she remembered placing into her pocket from the Big Kahuna she stopped at on the way back to Tokyo, drying her eyes and blowing her nose with it. She straightened herself up, not wanting to show any sign that a single tear had come free from her eyes. She discarded the paper napkin as she headed through the waiting area.  
  
_"Excuse me. Where can I find the cafeteria?"_  
  
Gogo wasn't there, O-Ren coming to an assumption on what the unstable teenager was doing. As O-Ren came close to passing the restrooms outside the exit of the cafeteria, her ears caught the sound of a familiar voice.  
  
_"Harder! Harder, you fucking pipsqueak!"_  
  
She looked at the door that it came from, it being the women's restroom. O-Ren entered, being bombarded with the familiar orders of sweat and juices that flowed during sex. There was the light sound of panting, one a mid-tone and one that was an alto. O-Ren followed the sound of the flesh making contact with flesh to the last stall. She noticed the door was slightly cracked, the bolt not having to have been secure. O-Ren pushed the door open until it met the wall behind it. And appearing much like a couple of deer in a set of car headlights was a couple. One was a young man, no later than his mid-20s, dressed in O.R. scrubs, his pants and underwear down at his ankles. He was between Gogo's legs, with her back against the wall. She was holding herself up with the handicap assistance railing, her underwear on her head. O-Ren only smirked.  
  
_"Gogo, when you're finished, Sofie and I will be waiting on you in the waiting area of the E.R."_  
  
O-Ren looked over at the young man, who appeared both embarrassed and confused.  
  
_"I hope you remembered to use a condom."_  
  
The young man, with the surprised look in his eyes, nodded lightly.  
  
_"Good,"_ O-Ren replied, closing the door to the stall.  
  
Just before O-Ren exited, she heard Gogo commanding.  
  
_"Get back to work, big dick!"_  
  
As O-Ren headed back to the E.R., Greg's rejection of her still lingered on her mind. She realized that he had plenty of time to stew about the past when he was in X-ray with Sofie. His plan had to have been to avoid her, which would explain his rather quick departure from the examination room. She knew that a part of him still had to care about her. Just because he hated her, didn't mean that she couldn't try to get him back, to make him love her once again. Yes, he rejected her that time, but it didn't mean he could hold up that hatred for long. That day was nothing more than a bump in the road.  
  
------------------  
The Next Day.  
------------------  
  
She waited inside her BMW SUV, parked on top of the hill that sloped down towards the entrance of the E.R. O-Ren got a head start that morning after waking up at 4:23, as usual. She left a note for the house keeper, in case Gogo came by. Worst possible scenario was that Gogo would call Sofie and Sofie would get a lo-jack trace done on the SUV to find out where it was, not that any of that mattered. However, she knew that there was very little time on her side. But it was time she was going to use to herself. It had been a while since she had a real break from her conquest to take over the Tokyo Underworld. It was one that she believed she needed. She needed time to square away the problem with Greg. And just pushing her away wasn't going to be enough. She's fought through many of tough enemies, coming within an inch of her life, and lived to tell about it. The situation with Greg wasn't going to be a tough obstacle.  
  
She had called the number for the hospital and the operator transferred the call to the E.R. She gave the desk attendant a small story about being a friend of Greg and wanting to make sure she was correct on the time he would be leaving the E.R. 8 o'clock in the morning was the time given, seeing that he had just pulled a 24 hour shift. She wondered how many times he had pulled 24 hour shifts at the hospital and how long had he been in Tokyo without her knowing. Seeing that she had gotten caught up with her goal to take charge, she didn't even think to keep an eye open in Tokyo for Greg.  
  
And seven minutes after 8, Greg exited out of the entrance to the E.R., heading along the side until reaching the street. O-Ren followed, keeping the BMW at a distance so that it would go unnoticed. As he moved through the street, O-Ren noticed that he made two stops. The first was at a fruit vender, buying an apple. The second had been at a newsstand, where he bought a copy of the Japanese print of Playboy magazine. The funnies thought came to O-Ren's mind, wasn't about the Playboy magazine, but the apple. She wondered how many times during his week he bought an apple. If it had been daily, then it would have negated the old saying that everyone knew about doctors and apples. That made me chuckle a bit. As for the porno magazine, she knew Greg actually read them for the articles. For any other guy, it had just been an excuse to have them there. However, for Greg, it was a fact. She had come home one day after visiting with Bill. She found Greg sitting at the table near the kitchen, eating toast and reading an article on the late John Holmes, notorious porn king. The article had been about the star's downfall, due to drugs and his porn appearances. That had been the first porn magazine she had even seen Greg read.  
  
"After I'm done with reading the articles, I throw the magazine away."  
  
After that, she took claim of the magazines after he was done with reading the articles. He was too sensible to have a collection hidden. She knew one thing about some women, particularly herself, was that they like porn like their male counterparts. The only thing they hated about it was when men hid them. O-Ren still bought a couple of porno magazines for herself throughout the time that Greg wasn't there. Though she didn't mind Playboy, she was more into Penthouse magazine herself. She even thought about how interesting it would be for her to pose for such a magazine one time. But then again, why would she want such publicity anyway? How would such a magazine describe her on their cover? "O-Ren Ishii, Queen of the Tokyo Underworld - Uncensored"? "O-Ren Ishii, puts the ASS in assassin"? Or "O-Ren Ishii, Samurai Nude"?  
  
She had sat across the street as she watched Greg waiting for the bus. He had stuffed the magazine into his bag and held the apple in his mouth as he did so. She thought about pulling up and offering a ride, but it was too soon to make herself known. He would most likely disbelieve that she was just in the neighborhood and refuse because it was her behind the wheel. If there was one thing she learned from being an assassin, it was to wait for the right time to strike. If that was one thing she remembered Bill telling her, that was it. Timing was important, catching them when they least expected it. Like bumping into them in a subway, or choking them while they're using the bathroom, or when they are laughing their asses off in the back of a moving limo from over 300 yards. It was that knowledge that she was using that would somewhat help. The bus had finally arrived and she continued to follow Greg after he boarded.  
  
She watched as he had entered the apartment building at the corner of Woo Avenue and Chiba Road towards the end of the Shinjuku district, no more than two miles from Kabukichou, Tokyo's nightlife and red-light district. Of course, two miles is a long ways for any normal person. The area that the apartment building was where most of department stores were. The owner may have selected it to catch a few college students or store workers for tenants. It was perfectly located, no more than four miles travel to any of the colleges near by for the students. Not even more than three for people who worked at some of the hi-tech stores that lined the streets of the Shinjuku. And any of them that liked to get out once and a while would most likely be able to go to Kabukichou. O-Ren was familiar with that place, seeing that is where she met a few of her platonic partners. But what confused her was why Greg had decided to live here. Why take the trip from here to Tokyo General Hospital? The closest hospital, from what she remembered about that area, had to have been the International Catholic Hospital. It had to be the only apartment building in the area, seeing that most of the other accommodating living areas were hotels in the same area. She began to get out of the SUV, deciding to leave the sword in the vehicle. It was not like she needed it. Greg knew a few gun tricks, but didn't own a gun. Besides, he couldn't have acquired one here if he wanted to, unless he was a criminal, which he wasn't. As she got closer to the entrance, she noticed the name, "Hitoribocchi Hatsu Danchi". The building had its simple design, it being a lot cleaner and nicer than their previous place she noted.  
  
The lobby area was rather small, so small that they may have just called it a room instead of a lobby. The walls were a dark lime green color. The elevator was to her right as she entered, the stairwell not too far ahead. She wasn't sure if Greg had taken the stairs of the elevator. Even still, she didn't know what floor or apartment that Greg resided in.  
  
_"Can I help you, Miss?"_ she heard.  
  
She looked over to her left, finding a woman in her 60s behind a counter, a bunch of mailboxes for the apartments behind her. Her hair was pulled back into a bun. She wore a red kimono. O-Ren naturally assumed that she was the landlord. As O-Ren got closer to the desk, she noticed a lot more details about the woman, like the scar, so small and unnoticeable, on her throat. O-Ren heard a lot about assassins who had retired the business to assume and lead normal lives. Other than Asimi Yubari and Vernita Green, she didn't really know of anyone else before the most recent years. And then she wondered if this old woman in front of her had once been on the job.  
  
_"Yes,"_ O-Ren began, _"I'm an old friend of Dr. Lowndes."_  
  
_"Really?"_ the woman replied, apparently confused, _"I wasn't aware that he had any friends."_  
  
_"I assure you, Greg and I are acquainted. He gave me the address here, but failed to tell me which apartment he was in."_  
  
_"Give me a second,"_ as she said, donning a pair of reading glasses, _"I often forget who is where."_  
  
O-Ren waited as the old woman picked up a clipboard and began to scan it.  
  
_"You know,"_ the old woman began to say as she looked at the list, _"I find it hard to believe that a woman like you can be just a friend. I can tell you still love him."_  
  
O-Ren had been caught off guard by the comment.  
  
_"How did you know that?"_ O-Ren asked.  
  
The woman looked up at her over the frames of the glasses.  
  
_"It's in your eyes, dear. Let me tell you something. Dr. Lowndes has been alone since he moved in here four years ago. He's never had anyone up to his apartment, not even a single woman. He also had any a woman in quite some time."_  
  
_"How can you be sure?"_  
  
_"I've seen my fair share of men who have been fucking for the pleasure of it, be it with a girl they've picked up at a bar or some prostitute from down the road. They have a certain body language when it comes to post sexual contact. Not only that, they would smell of sex. Dr. Lowndes hasn't had any kind of change in step or smell since he started living here. Except maybe that clean smell he always has on him from when he comes back from work. He's a good man, but he never seems happy. No man can sustain a good life without love. Greg Lowndes is a good example of it. Why else are there a lot of married people in the world today?"_  
  
_"Why do you suppose he lives alone?"_  
  
The woman looked back down at the chart for a moment, and then removed her glasses. She leaned forward onto the counter, almost as if he is trying to tell a secret.  
  
_"Because he's afraid of something. Normally, people fear what it is they don't understand, and that often leads to hatred of something or someone,"_ she replied, _"He's in apartment 3G, near the end of the hall on the third floor from the elevator."_  
  
O-Ren was slightly confused as she road the elevator up to the top floor. The old woman's words lingered. She didn't understand how fear could invoke anger. And what was Greg afraid of, if there was something to fear? She knew commitment wasn't it. Greg asked her what she thought about marriage a few times in the past. She tried avoiding the question because she herself did not know what to think about it. She wasn't sure if she wanted to be married, at least at that time. Now, she wasn't as sure if she didn't want to be married. She knew that Greg would have more than likely married her, if he hadn't left.  
  
She finally reached the door to the apartment. O-Ren withdrew her lock picking set. It had been a while since she last used it, but it wasn't hard to forget. She got down on one knee, getting the lock into her view. It didn't take long to unlock it. She knew that Greg had locked it behind himself, seeing that was an old habit he had yet to break. The apartment, on the inside, reminded her of any American bachelor's pad, though still a bit Japanese in design. O-Ren noticed a couple of American magazines sitting on a glass coffee table in the living room. She wasn't sure if they were there for reminiscing, to give the place an American feel, or if Greg actually still read them. Either or both wouldn't have been a surprise to her. She pulled her black coat off, draping it over the back of the couch. She pushed up the sleeves of her black shirt up to her elbows, thinking the apartment wasn't even close to the same size as the old one. She could hear water running from another room, a simple sink kind of running. She followed it down a narrow hall to a slightly opened door. She slipped through it.  
  
The room was rather dark. The windows had blinds, trying to block out the light of day to a certain degree. The color of the shades gave off a blue tint that covered the room, looking like the sky minutes after sundown. The sound of water being turned off caught her attention, quickly making her react. She ducked behind the door of the room, pulling it close to the wall to keep her hidden behind it. The room was engulfed briefly with light from the bathroom before Greg switched it off. O-Ren watched as he came into view from her right, where the bathroom may have been. She could see his semi-normal movement as he crawled onto the bed over the covers, not removing a single article of clothing.  
  
She remembered his normal routine after a twenty-four hour shift: First a power nap. Then a shower and anything that needed to be done or wanted to be done following after that. By the old terms, the anything that needed to be done or wanted to be done normally was lovemaking between the two. She remembered what it felt like to be with him, making love. It was almost as if the two of them had merged into one, a connection between souls and hearts. She wanted to feel that way again, particularly with Greg. She slowly moved from behind the door, carefully heading around to his bedside. Greg had his eyes closed, trying to get rest. But rest wasn't going to be a concern for him as far as she cared. She was ready to do this. She quickly judged where she was going to place her hands. Also, she knew one position that no matter how much he trashed about, she would still have him pinned. She kept her eyes on him, just before she struck.  
  
Greg let out a startled cry as he felt the sudden impact of O-Ren on top of him. She had his arms pinned down to the bed, also straddling his pelvis to pin it down too. O-Ren noticed the look in his eyes in the following order: A moment of confusion, a brief second in fear and then a quick return of hatred with those familiar cold eyes.  
  
"What the fuck?!" Greg spoke, grinding his teeth, "How did you get in here? Get the fuck off of me!"  
  
He tried to struggle, but O-Ren was smart. Just because she was small, didn't mean she didn't know how to keep someone down if she wanted to. It wasn't the first time she did it, and it wasn't going to be the last.  
  
"Greg, look at me."  
  
He did, right straight in the eye. She could see the fury burning in his eyes. She only hoped that it would go away as she proceeded to love him. She closed her eyes as she leaned forward to kiss him.  
  
PHAFT! Just within seconds, she felt her nose to her right cheek bone receive a hard blow. The pain was hard, causing the normal reflex to nurse it. Within a second of doing so, she opened her eyes to see a balled fist coming right at her. PHAFT! The hit made contact right on the cheekbone from the previous hit. The force of the hit knocked O-Ren back. Though the mattress had softened the landing, it also propelled her to her left, landing face first on the floor. She was in a momentary daze, watching Greg rub his forehead as he scrambled for the door. O-Ren concluded that the first hit that she got was from a head butt. However, a simple tap and a knock were not going to stop her. She stumbled over her feet as she tried to get up.  
  
She was almost towards the end of the hallway outside the bedroom door when she sensed danger. She ducked in time, hearing the sound of a deep swoop over her head. She turned to see Greg wielding an aluminum baseball bat. As Greg completed the swing, he repositioned himself to swing the bat in the opposite direction rather quickly. O-Ren rolled forward as the bat, now a bit lower to compensate her new position, missed her a second time. O-Ren looked back at Greg, seeing him rearing the bat again, the look of hatred in his eyes burning brighter than the sun.  
  
She struck quickly, delivering a hard kick that sent the bat flying from his hands and bouncing off into the bedroom. She grabbed a hold of his shirt's collar, delivered a hard punch to his face, spun around and threw him over the couch, causing him to land on the glass coffee table. It collapsed under his weight, shattering it into pieces.  
  
It had taken her a second to realize what she did. She had thrown the man she loved across the room with a combat skill. Though she didn't have a choice, it didn't feel right combining the skills of what she was with the person she loved. She rushed over to him, realizing his nose was bleeding and was covering his white dress shirt.  
  
Oh my god, she thought.  
  
"Greg? Sweetie?" she said, kneeling down next to him.  
  
He seemed sort of in a dazed, completely zoned out, stuck in an area between consciousness and unconsciousness. O-Ren couldn't just leave him like that. She had done this to him. Yes, he tried to attack her with a baseball bat, but she didn't mean to do this to him. She got her arms around him, pulling him off the broken table. She began to drag him into the kitchen, luckily discovering the dinner table with a set of four chairs. She pulled one out, carefully pulling him into a sitting position. The blood was still pouring, but not as much as it had when it began. She moved over to the sink, checking drawers until she found some dish rags. She checked the icebox, retrieving a tray of frozen cubes. She knew that when Greg snapped out of it, his nose would most likely be hurting worse than any other part of his body. Before she could wiggle the cubes free... BONG! She felt the hard blow to the left side of her head.  
  
Her entire mind was numb for a moment. It didn't take long for the feeling to come back, the left side thumping in pain, as if someone were trying to drill a hole in her head. She realized she was on the floor, lying on her right side. She heard the sound first before seeing it, a frying pan. She looked up to see Greg standing tall, his mouth covered in blood. He had slipped back into reality with her back turned. He took a few steps back, plopping back down into the chair that O-Ren sat him in. O-Ren cradled her head as she pulled her legs up underneath herself, until she was able to pull herself into a sitting position on her legs.  
  
She looked into his eyes from across the kitchen. His eyes remained cold, no sign of friendly reorganization. The man she fell in love with was not the same man sitting there. It was almost looking into the eyes of a stranger. Greg, having to been mad at her in the past four years, had not forgiven her. There was nothing but silence in between them.  
  
The sound of the front door flying open caused O-Ren to jump. Greg didn't even flinch. Gogo found them, quickly tending to their downed leader, while two other members of the Crazy 88 with swords drawn, had their blades pointed at Greg.  
  
_"Don't hurt him!"_ O-Ren commanded.  
  
Both of the members took a step back from him, as Gogo helped O-Ren up.  
  
_"Get out,"_ Greg said in Japanese.  
  
O-Ren locked eyes with him once again. She noticed them becoming narrow as he spoke, as if Greg was Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde had begun to take over. This look in his eyes pained her, even more than the slight headache she had.  
  
_"Get out,"_ Greg repeated, _"Get out and stay out. You are not welcome here. You never will be welcomed."_  
  
Though Gogo may have interpreted it as him telling them to leave, O-Ren knew it meant more than that. He might as well have said, "Get out of my life. You are not welcome into my life. You never will be welcomed in my life." And that had pierced deep into her heart.  
  
----------------  
  
Gogo was behind the wheel as O-Ren sat in the passenger seat. She sat with her arm propped up on the door, her hand to her face. She was deep in though, trying to analyze the situation with Greg. Even though she did have a slight headache from the frying pan, it still didn't distract her enough to think. The only thing that he could have hated her about was what she had done. She wondered how it was he found the bottle of antibiotics, that being the only thing that gave away what she did. He's a doctor; he had to know about the types of antibiotics.  
  
I'm not giving up, she thought, I'm not. I haven't lost any of my battles in my life and I have always received the prize I had fought for. I WILL win Tokyo. And I most definitely WILL win Greg back. Or I will get the answers to the questions I had so long since wanted to resolve. But how?  
  
It took a couple of seconds later that she realized the answer. She needed something to help clear the air between the two of them. And the only person she knew that had such a something was Bill. She remembered a meeting they had sometime the year before, Bill showing her a concoction he created. She thought it ma have been useful in her goal of dominating the Tokyo underworld. But it would most likely help resolve the issues with Greg. She would get the answers she sought after. Now, she had a secondary goal. But that would have to wait.  
  
(To be continued...)


	7. Chapter 7: Dreams and Massacres

(_"Behind Blue Eyes"  
By The Who_

_No one knows what it's like  
To be the bad man  
To be the sad man  
Behind blue eyes_

_No one knows what it's like  
To be hated  
To be fated  
To telling only lies_

_But my dreams  
They aren't as empty  
As my conscience seems to be_

_I have hours, only lonely  
My love is vengeance  
That's never free_

_No one knows what it's like  
To feel these feelings  
Like I do  
And I blame you_

_No one bites back as hard  
On their anger  
None of my pain and woe  
Can show through_

_But my dreams  
They aren't as empty  
As my conscience seems to be_

_I have hours, only lonely  
My love is vengeance  
That's never free_

_When my fist clenches, crack it open  
Before I use it and lose my cool  
When I smile, tell me some bad news  
Before I laugh and act like a fool_

_And if I swallow anything evil  
Put your finger down my throat  
And if I shiver, please give me a blanket  
Keep me warm; let me wear your coat_

_No one knows what it's like  
To be the bad man  
To be the sad man  
Behind blue eyes_)

Chapter 7: Dreams and Massacres

O-Ren opened the door to her light blue sedan, the afternoon sky hanging over as it passed three o'clock. The sky was clear of any clouds, the sun shining brightly.

What a beautiful day, O-Ren thought as she carried her briefcase up the walkway to the house.

The house was a two-floored. It was perfect for when she had broken the news to Greg. She had decided to run after waking up that morning, out of pure luck, bumping into BEEP in a 24 hour mini-mart, telling her of Bill and his plan. After that, she ran. She got as far away from El Paso, back to L.A. And she told him everything, the whole truth from start to finish. He was shocked, but he got over it. They had moved to a small quiet suburb, where Bill himself never would have thought about looking. She had said her final goodbye to Bill over the phone, being always aware that if he did show up at her front door, that she would have no choice but to kill him. Yes, she cared about him, him being a father to her. But if it had to come down between her, Greg and the little one, and Bill, she would have chosen her and her family over him. She didn't want to leave behind the family she had worked so hard for. She got herself a job as a legal aide for one of the law firms in town. From one side of the law, she converted to the other. Sure, it wasn't as fun as taking out the trash herself, but at least she was helping making the world better legally. She was happy with the way her life had become. She wondered if Black Mamba was okay, if she had run or if she had a gun ready to use against Bill and the others. Never the less, she prayed that she was safe. After all, she was like a sister.

O-Ren entered the house, the sweet smell of strawberries enticing her nose. At that moment, she had the idea for a perfect dessert for her family: strawberry shortcake. She sat the briefcase by the door, tucking it back against the wall before heading around the staircase to enter the kitchen. For dinner, she thought in the morning before heading off about fixing a Vietnamese meal that she had read about called _pho_, pronounced as "far". Sure, she was half Chinese-American and half Japanese, but it didn't mean that she didn't like to have other types of food. Besides, she was always told that it was good to try out things. And she wanted her family to always try out something new. Before she left, she left a pot to simmer some beef ribs, a cinnamon stick, fresh ginger, onions and peppercorns. She knew that when the time was ready, she was going to have to slice some steak into thin pieces and lower them into the hot stock. As she had donned an apron that said "Kiss the Cook", she had the feeling she forgot something. It was at that time she heard the front door open and close.

"Mommy," she heard a child's voice, "I'm home!"

"In here, sweetheart," she replied.

O-Ren pulled some items out of the refrigerator, setting them out onto the counter. She closed the door just in time to see a little girl dressed in a pink shirt and a brown pair of shorts. The little girl looked almost like O-Ren did when she was a child. O-Ren was glad that she had a daughter. The little girl made her way over to the dinner table. O-Ren decided that dinner could wait a few minutes. O-Ren headed over to the girl, giving her a hug after kneeling down. She followed that with a kiss to her forehead.

"Did you have a good day at School, sweetheart?" O-Ren asked in a sweet mommy voice.

"I did. I learned my ABCs today. Did you have a good day at work?"

"Yes, I did."

"Did you think about me?"

"Every second, of every minute, of every hour," was the only reply O-Ren gave.

She held the little girl in her arms as she hugged her again. It just felt right to hug her. She still had the feeling that something was missing.

"Where are my lovely ladies?" she heard Greg's voice.

"In here!" the little girl cheerfully called out.

O-Ren allowed the girl to slip from her arms so that she could meet her father at the doorway of the kitchen. He picked her up, hugging her.

"There's my lovely daughter," he said, giving her a small kiss on her cheek.

O-Ren smiled as she stood up and moved over to them. She planted a small kiss on her husband's lips, noticing the look of disgust on the little one's face, typical of that age.

Everybody's home, she thought, the way it should be.

O-Ren moved back to the counter to continue to make dinner.

"How was your day?" O-Ren asked.

"It was okay. Took care of a little boy who scrapped his knee from skateboarding. And you?"

"Same as it ever was," she replied with a small smile on her face.

"What's for dinner?"

"A Vietnamese dish I picked up from Bill a while ago."

O-Ren noticed something about the ingredients. She was missing a few. She knew that she had them, but they weren't there. Then it came back to her.

"Shoot," she said under her breath, "I left a bag of groceries out in the car."

"Want me to get them?" Greg asked as he sat the little girl down.

"No, no... I'll get them. I'm the queen of short term memory loss."

O-Ren removed the apron and began to head to the door when she felt a great weight increase ion her right leg. She looked down to find her daughter her arms wrapped tightly around her leg.

"Mommy, please don't go," the little girl begged, "I'm scare that you won't come back."

O-Ren noticed the look in the little girl's eyes. She really was scared. Greg came up and pulled the little girl carefully off her leg, picking her up and holding her. The little girl still had the look of fear in her eyes, her eyes watering up. O-Ren smiled warmly, wiping away the water from the little girl's eyes before they could become tears.

"It's okay, sweetheart," O-Ren replied, "I'm not going anywhere."

O-Ren continued on, leaving her husband and child behind in the kitchen. She wondered what it was that her daughter was scared about. She put the thought out of her mind as she opened the front door and stepped through it. But something was wrong, very wrong. She wasn't outside of her house. The street, the lawn, the sedan, the driveway and walkway were not where they should have been. She wasn't even outside. She was inside. She was in a room, someplace else. It was almost as if she had stepped through some sort of portal to another room, if not dimension. And the place she stepped into was a church. Everything was neat and in order and clean. It looked like a typical southern Christen church, except that it had a wooden floor and the wooden rafters overhead can be seen, the inside of the roof at the very top. The walls were white, an organ at the far side from where she had come in. And at the far end of the room on her right was the main entryway.

She heard the sound of the door slamming shut behind her, causing her to almost jump out of her skin. She didn't want to be there. She grabbed the handle, trying with all of her might to pull it open. But the door didn't budge. She didn't want to be there, she wanted to be back at her house, and she wanted to be with her husband and child. But it was too late.

She heard the sound of heavy breathing, deep and short breaths that she seemed to recognize. It was the kind that someone would have when they are in a panic. O-Ren turned around to notice that the setting had changed. Before, the church was empty, clean and in order. Now, there were people, most of them dead, lying on the floor near to where she was standing, near the front of the crucifix. A preacher was one of them. There was one body that was breathing, sporting a bridal gown and a stomach that indicated three months of pregnancy. O-Ren got closer, suddenly realizing who it was. It wasn't hard to forget those blue eyes and blonde hair. It was Black Mamba. Her face was covered in blood and bruised. She began to whimper, as if each breath was causing pain.

O-Ren looked towards the doorway, as she heard the sound of boots walking towards them. She saw Bill coming down the isle. Behind him, standing in the doorway was herself, dressed all in black. She stood back, watching Bill. Neither seem to take notice of her, standing there next to the blood-splattered bride. Bill stopped next to BEEP, looking down at her.

"Do you find me sadistic?" he asked her, pulling out his handkerchief from one of his pockets.

O-Ren watched as Bill knelt down beside the bride. She flinched when he touched her, wiping away some of the blood on her face.

"Bill?" O-Ren tried to get his attention, her voice coming out slightly muted.

But Bill continued on, the O-Ren in the doorway keep her eyes on him. Neither still took notice of her.

"You know," Bill continued, "I'd like to believe, even now, that you are aware that there's nothing sadistic about my actions."

Bill paused for a moment, with a matter of fact look on his face as the thought came to him.

"Maybe towards those other jokers. But not you."

Bill stuffed the handkerchief into his coat pocket. As he rose to stand, he retrieved his Colt from its holster, hidden under his jacket.

"No kiddo..."

O-Ren didn't want this. Black Mamba was pregnant. No innocent bystander like an unborn child deserved to die like this. She grabbed a hold of the gun, right at the cylinder that held the bullets. Bill cocked the hammer back, O-Ren still going on noticed by him.

"Bill, stop!" O-Ren screamed.

"...this is me at my most..."

"Bill, please!"

She gripped as tight as both of her hands could, sure enough that the cylinder couldn't turn.

"...masochistic."

"Bill," BEEP's words catching O-Ren's attention, "It's your bab..."

The cylinder turned as Bill pulled the trigger, even with O-Ren still holding it. At the moment the shot rang out, O-Ren felt a sharp cutting into her lower right shin. She backed away quickly, looking down at her leg. She noticed that he clothes had changed. She was now wearing a white kimono. She also noticed the large slash on her right shin. She could feel the warmth of blood slowly inching its way down her leg, red staining white. She also realized she was holding a samurai sword.

What the hell?

And she suddenly became aware that the setting changed completely. She no longer stood in a church. She was standing in an old-fashioned Japanese style courtyard, a beautiful place covered in snow. And across from her was Black Mamba. She wore a yellow jumpsuit with black stripes crawling up the sides, stained in random splatter of blood. She was slim, like the way O-Ren remembered seeing her last. She held what looked like a Hattori Hanzo sword or something close to it. She was breathing heavy, almost exhausted.

They stood apart from each other, the only sound being a deer scarer clanking off in the distance as it filled and poured water out. O-Ren didn't know why she wanted to say this, nor did she know what it meant, but she felt that she had to.

_"For ridiculing you earlier..."_ she said in a light whisper, _"I apologized."_

Even from the distance that she stood, O-Ren noticed BEEP's lower lip quiver, sadness briefly coming into her eyes, a look that she had never seen from the blonde assassin before. She inhaled deeply as if trying to find strength inside of herself.

_"Accepted"_ Black Mamba replied, her voice sounding as if it were breaking between calmness and sorrow.

Without warning, O-Ren felt something wrapped around her neck. It was rather tight, making it hard for her to breathe. Her surroundings changed once more. BEEP was the first to change. She no longer wore the yellow jumpsuit. She now wore a red shirt, blue jeans and a black leather jacket; the left sleeve had a cut in a diagonal, an appearance from a sharp blade. Her hair was pulled back from her face, yet she held the same sword in the same hand. But she was joined by two others. Greg was on Black Mamba's left, sporting two Colt revolvers in their holsters and an automatic pistol in his right hand. On the right of the blonde assassin, was Lucas. He also sported two Colts in their holsters, a Winchester rifle in his hands. His left leg looked as if it had been shot, a bandage tinted lightly in red. The surroundings changed, this time to what appeared to be a hall. She looked up and took notice of a wire cable leading up from behind her and over a support beam above her. She also realized her hands were bound by duct tape.

What the...?

She looked over to her left to find a woman whom she had never seen before. She appeared to be Japanese, late 30s. She held an M-16 in one hand and what appeared to be the controls to something. Before O-Ren could figure out what the controls were for, the tightness around her neck got tighter and she was lifted off the ground.

"NO!" Greg yelled, both Lucas and he readying their guns on the woman. She dropped the control box, causing O-Ren to be suspended nine feet off the floor. She lost track of what was happening, now focused on the wire cable that was choking her. She tried to get her fingers in between her throat and the wire, but her hands were bound in a way that it was useless to her. She didn't want to die this way, not without honor and especially not in front of Greg.

She tried to scream, but nothing was coming out. It was as if she had no voice. No matter how hard she tried, her screams were silent. She could feel the world slipping away from her. The phantom pain in her right leg, stomach and head came back, as she felt rocking, hearing a woman's voice.

She bolted up right in her bed, a panicked scream escaping her throat. She felt someone there, holding her wrists.

"O-Ren, calm down!" the voice said, "You were having a nightmare, you're safe!"

O-Ren took deep breaths as Sofie switched on the bedside light. O-Ren looked at the clock, it reading 4:23 a.m. Sofie was there, nothing on but a robe and a nightgown. O-Ren hadn't seen Sofie with her hair down before. Sofie let go of O-Ren's wrists, kneeling down beside the bed.

"You were screaming," she said, "I could hear you through the wall."

The combination of the cool air and sweat made O-Ren shiver.

-

O-Ren sat at the table, wrapped up in the thick comforter. The phantom pains she had dissipated minutes after being awaken. Sofie brew some coffee, the gourmet kind. She poured some into two cups.

"Would you like cream or sugar, O-Ren?"

"Black's fine."

Sofie carried the cups of coffee over to the table, placing a cup in front of O-Ren. The contents weren't too hot, but that didn't stop the Chi-Jap-American before. She took one big gulp, the liquid warming halfway down her throat. It was good.

"Are you okay, O-Ren?" Sofie asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Today is the day you're going to kill Black Mamba. I understand about how you must feeling, seeing that you were close to her."

O-Ren nodded.

"I don't understand why she did it. If she wanted out, she could have retired like Vernita. I don't care who you are, making people you know think that you're dead is come hateful and cold-blooded shit. I'm not sure if I really want to do it. I hate her for what she's done, but to kill her is something that I can't come to a solid conclusion on."

"Why not tell Bill?"

"He hurts as much as I do. He would probably tell me to cowgirl the fuck up. Though he knows what will happen to her, I...I don't believe he knows what will happen to him."

O-Ren took another sip from the cup, the contents cooling down a tad bit more than before. She noticed the concern look in Sofie's eyes, reaching over and taking a hold of O-Ren's hand, like a friend.

"I'm sure he would understand."

"You don't understand, Sofie. You're not a murderer like Bill or me. We HAVE to do it. Our pride is on the line."

"I do understand, O-Ren. I know you're hurting, but it's not just about BEEP. I know that."

O-Ren pulled her hand clean from Sofie's grasp. She tried to keep her composure. Sofie couldn't know of what it was that O-Ren did. None of the Vipers did, not even Bill. It was her choice, damn it. It wasn't Bill's, it wasn't Greg's, it was HERS. Yes, what she did may have affected her relationship with Greg, but there was no way for him to find out. She did what she did because she wasn't ready. And Sofie didn't or couldn't know about it.

"Don't try to analyze my life, Sofie. We're not friends, and you sure as hell aren't a Viper. Maybe that's why you're not, because you FEEL. And I sure as hell don't want your sympathy."

O-Ren could see that her words were hurting Sofie, keeping her tears back. Sofie didn't say a word, downed the rest of the coffee in her cup and left, shutting the door behind her. O-Ren closed her eyes, shaking her head at what she had done.

Why the hell did you do that? She was only trying to be friendly, to be supportive.

O-Ren rubbed her forehead, not able to come up with an answer. Maybe it was because Sofie had tried to pry into an area of her life that she wanted to keep a lid on. Just as long as everyone stayed out of that area, she'd be okay. Everyone would be okay. She slowly finished off the remains of the coffee in her cup, thinking it would be a good idea to go get a head start on getting ready. She took a shower, brushed her hair and teeth, slipped into a fresh pair of underwear before donning black. And to finish, she fished out two pills of the prescribed antibiotics from a Ziploc baggie she hid in her case. She looked at the clock. It read 6:32 a.m. It was still early.

-

The road was a bit deserted as she walked. Of course, this was 6:41 a.m. in El Paso, not L.A. She had completely forgotten most of the dream she had before, except a few fragments like an empty church, a yellow and black jumpsuit and a wire cable. It didn't matter anyway, not that it was important. She tried to focus on the upcoming task, killing BEEP. It wasn't difficult, but it wasn't easy to do either on so many levels. O-Ren found herself at a Stop 'N' Go not too far down the road. Behind the counter was a rather attractive blonde. For a brief moment, she thought it was Black Mamba, but it wasn't.

"Excuse me," O-Ren began to ask, "Do you have a public restroom here?"

"Yeah, head, towards the back and it'll be on the left."

The restroom smelled of bleach and air freshener, a sign that it had been recently clean. She didn't need to use the restroom. She went over to the sink, splashing some water on her face from the running facet. She looked into the mirror, seeing a woman who looked like her staring right back.

"Do you want to do this?" her reflection asked.

"I don't know," she replied.

"You better decide soon. Time is almost up."

She turned off the facet, pulling a piece of paper towel from the dispenser. Why did she have to convince herself to do it? She was under orders. That was a good enough reason. She should just follow orders like she had before, with no emotions. It was as simple as that.

She came out, deciding on buying a bottle of water. She felt her mouth was slightly dry, probably somewhat parched from the walk. She wondered who it was that came up with the idea of bottling water, seeing that they most definitely had been backstroking in money when they started to do it. She had her back turned to the counter when the bell for the door ran as it opened. O-Ren paid it no mind as she tried to decide what size to go with.

"Hey, Arlene," she heard the cashier.

O-Ren sensed a familiar presence before the voice she heard had confirmed who it was.

"Hey Michelle," Black Mamba's voice came up.

O-Ren looked over at the glass door she held open, able to catch the light reflection of the counter. She was shocked to no only see her old friend standing there, but what hit deep in the core of her being was that BEEP's stomach was big. She was pregnant. The shock dissipated and the phantom pain in her stomach returned and made friends with the hatred that was bubbling under the surface. O-Ren grabbed one of the bottles and closed the door. She didn't want to attract attention to herself, casually stepping off to the side and in front of a Little Debbie snack display. She peeked around the display, realizing that neither Black Mamba nor the cashier noticed her.

"Whatcha doin' here this early?" the cashier asked.

"I couldn't get much sleep, so I figured I'd come in and get some ice cream."

"Your usual?"

"You know it."

O-Ren watched as the cashier headed over to what appeared to be a freezer unit. At that moment, a bitter taste was developing in her own mouth.

It's not fair! It's SO not fucking fair!

The cashier returned to the counter with a waffle cone with a large amount of ice cream packed into it.

"Here you go, Arlene, one waffle cone of Vanilla Twist."

O-Ren watched as "Arlene" paid with a ten, accepted the change and carefully took the cone.

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" the cashier asked.

"No, but I am excited. We're having our wedding rehearsal today."

"I wish you luck," the cashier said, "You can never tell when things are going up."

"Thanks," BEEP replied as she headed for the door.

"Say 'hi' to Tommy for me."

And like that, she was gone. However, the anger and pain still lingered inside O-Ren. She held herself quietly inside, paying for the water and leaving the store. She headed back to the Dew Drop Inn. She got half way there until the pressure that was building up had finally blew. She stopped into her tracks.

"FUCK YOU, YOU COLD-HEARTED BITCH!" O-Ren let out at the top of her lungs, her furious scream echoing over the plains.

She made up her mind. She wanted to see Black Mamba suffer. She wanted to make her suffer, to make her bleed. O-Ren had suffered for three months and four days. Though she knew that Bill wouldn't allow for that long for suffering towards his 'gal', she hoped that all the Vipers would deliver the suffering in magnitude. She chugged a few gulps of water from the bottle before walking again, hoping to cut down the taste in her mouth.

-

Everyone went to breakfast at a nearby diner. Budd was the only one talking, telling this about this guy named Butch Coolidge who used to be a boxer. Not that many of the group was paying attention to him, O-Ren being one of them. She wasn't sure if anyone noticed her silence, or the hatred that had flared up inside her. She couldn't believe that BEEP was pregnant, living under a phony name and trying to blend in. If anyone deserved such a life, it was O-Ren. Black Mamba was living the life that should have been hers. She earned it. What made it worse was the fact that she ran and stole that new life. Vernita earned the right for the life away from the job. But O-Ren deserved that life more than any of the Vipers, not because she worked for it, but because she had no real family. She wanted a family, a worker bee job, a sedan and a small house on a quiet little street. How dare Black Mamba try to steal that right that she obviously didn't earn?

O-Ren noticed Bill was watching her. She realized he had noticed something. She got up, heading to the restroom. If there was one thing about restrooms, she knew that they were private; no one would burst in and bother her. She found refuge in one of the stalls, leaning against the door. She needed to clear her head. Too much thinking could be distracting while on the job. It was a hit, another on the long list of people whom the Vipers had killed. And Black Mamba was going to be next. She really wanted to get it over with, so she could go back home to the man she loved, get it over and be done with it. Suffering in magnitude. A fair punishing for the deadliest woman alive, for the life she tried to take from her.

She heard a knocking on the stall door.

"O-Ren?"

She opened the door slightly to see Bill.

"You know you're in the ladies' room, don't you?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," he replied with a light chuckle.

She allowed him into the stall. She told him about BEEP being pregnant. She also told him about how she was feeling about the whole thing. Bill appeared to be calm the whole time.

"I tell you, O-Ren, she'll suffer. Thinking about it now, maybe I should be doing this myself. I guess its too late now."

"Bill," O-Ren hesitated a moment, "I want this to be my last hit too."

Bill remained silent.

"I can't keep doing this. I can't keep lying to Greg. A relationship is based on trust and honestly. And like all things in a relationship, it's a two-way thing. I can't keeping lying to the man I love when he's been more than honest to me."

"An honest man," Bill spoke, "A rarity in this day and age."

"So, after this, I ask you let me go. And when I get home, I am going to tell him the truth about everything. Every little lie I've told, every little thought I've had and every secret I've kept from him."

Bill nodded. If there was one thing she knew about Bill, as long as someone was honest to him and explained it to him, he was clearheaded when it came to discussions. Then he would be reasonable, understanding and react accordingly.

"Before Vernita picked me up yesterday, Greg asked me if we were fucking each other."

This caused Bill to laugh. O-Ren couldn't help but chuckle too.

"Well, Cottonmouth, when you start telling him the truth, you can tell him I'm a sucker for blondes. Brunettes aren't my kind of women. They're too strong willed for my taste."

"Thank you, Bill," she replied, knowing that he was complementing her.

"As for this being your last hit, I'm sorry to see you go. All I can say is that if there is ever anything you need, I'll back you up, no matter what. You've been like a daughter to me."

She nodded. Bill had been a father to her, though he had participated in the death of her parents. After dealing with Black Mamba, she was done. No more lies and it was about damn time too. Some things needed to be corrected. If only this situation had happened last month, then things would have been looking completely up. BEEP had committed a crime against O-Ren and the others. And it would be the Vipers to deliver the punishment.

-

There was a gas station not too far down the way from the Two Pines Wedding Chapel, it appearing to have long since been closed down. Bill pulled the van into the shade beside the decrepit building. The Vipers climbed out, getting the M-16s ready for use. Bill had his flute with him. He turned to Sofie, who was fishing out a pair of binoculars from the duffle bag.

"Wait for me to go inside," Bill said, "That'll be your signal."

And Bill began his walk over to the chapel, Sofie standing watch for the Vipers. O-Ren loaded a fresh clip into the gun. Budd had decided to leave his sword in the van. Vernita slid her SOG knife into her right boot, draping her pants leg over it. There was very little vegetation out in the El Paso desert. O-Ren didn't care who would tell her otherwise, El Paso in no way looked like California.

Budd begun humming a Johnny Cash tune, "Ring of Fire" she believed it was. If she were ever asked, she was a Beatles kind of girl. She thought about the song "Strawberry Fields". It was one of her favorites, but there was one at the top of her list that she liked more than "Strawberry Fields".

It took only a few minutes to go by before Sofie piped up.

"Oh my," she said, lowering the binoculars.

"What is it?" Budd asked.

"BEEP is pregnant."

"Give me those," Vernita said as she snatched the binoculars from Sofie's hand and looked into them in the chapel's direction, "She's not kidding. Motherfuckin' Black Mamba's pregnant! O-Ren come see this."

O-Ren already knew.

"It doesn't make a difference," O-Ren replied, "She's dead either way."

O-Ren noticed Elle looking at her, a cool look of appreciation in her eye. She made a gesture to O-Ren that looked as if she were tipping off an invisible top hat to her. Despite the knife throw at Jackrabbit Slims the night before, O-Ren knew that Elle now had respect for her. They both were on the same page when it came to hating Black Mamba, even though they each had separate reasons. Vernita continued to watch before she turned to the others.

"He's in," she said, "Sofie; wait for us to go in before pulling the van around."

Sofie took the binoculars as Vernita began to lead them down the road Again, the Beatles lingered on her mind. Though "Strawberry Fields" was echoing throughout her mind as she walked, she pictured the "Abby Road" album cover. She was the third in the line as they walked. If she had to associate the Vipers to the Beatles, particular on that album cover, she would have been McCarthy, barefoot with a cigarette.

They stopped in front of the church, Vernita and Budd on her left and Elle on her right. She could see Bill inside, standing off to the left, watching the pregnant bride and her wedding party at the very end of the room. She had on her wedding dress, including her veil. O-Ren could feel the hatred and pain she suffered, a high pitched siren wailing in the back of her mind that drew out the music of the Beatles. She was at the point where she wanted to explode. All at one, they lifted their guns and ascended the steps, passing through the entryway.

"What in the hell!" the preacher let out a second after witnessing the Vipers enter.

At the same time the bride and her party turned to see what had caught the preacher by surprise, Bill looked over at the Vipers and nodded. O-Ren knew it was time to start. The wedding party began to panic.

"NO! BILL!" Black Mamba screamed

But it was too late. O-Ren concentrated her fire on the best man and groom. Elle targeted the organ player, while Vernita took out the bride's maids and Budd killed the preacher and his wife. After the clips were empty, the only person left standing was Black Mamba. She was in shock, which turned into fear. O-Ren concluded that she knew why they were there and why she was left standing. Bill had ordered it so.

Budd and O-Ren were the first two down the isle, wit Vernita and Elle following them like a pair of Bride's maids. Bill moved over to the entrance, leaning against the frame like an old-man version of James Dean. The Vipers formed a circle around the bride, the shock of what happened and confusion wore off and was replaced by fear. She knew what was going to happen next.

She looked towards Bill, hoping he would spare her. O-Ren's gaze followed hers. Bill had no sympathy at that moment, or at least he didn't show it. Bill actually had an amused smirk, typical of him when it came to having an idea fit for the moment.

"He, who with sin," Bill spoke, "Cast the first stone."

O-Ren knew what it meant: let's do it. The bride taking deep breathes, trying to keep her eyes on each of the Vipers. She tried to hug her stomach, trying to protect her unborn child from the beating to come. This made the siren in the back of her head not only get louder, but the pitch changed to some higher tone that gave O-Ren a small headache. Just as the Bride turned to face her, O-Ren took one step forward and delivered the first blow, a hard left. The bride stumbled sideways into Vernita, who kneed Black Mamba in the groin. She shoved her over to Budd, who gave her a head butt into her face. O-Ren had already become lost in an emotional haze at this point, the last piece of the beating she recalled was Elle grabbing a hold of BEEP's hair and pulling her close to deliver a blow.

-

She awoke in the darkness of the morning, bolting upright in bed. It had been another nightmare. It was completely different from the previous ones. It felt real. She chuckled to herself, glad that what it was. El Paso had been nothing more than just a dream. The green digital face of the clock read 4:23 a.m., it resting on the small nightstand next to the bed. She felt his arm draped over her waist, holding her gently close to him. She carefully slipped out of bed, the cool air tickling her naked body as she moved out of the room. She moved her way through the dark, finally reaching the bathroom. She turned on the light, closing the door as she did so. She looked in the mirror, taking in every detail of her image. Her eyes, her hair, her nose... Everything seemed okay, for the time being, as it always had been.

God, what a strange dream that was.

She splashed some water onto her face, drying her face with a towel that had been left hanging on the side of the sink. She switched off the light, heading back into the bedroom. She carefully slipped back into bed, not wanting to disturb her love. It was only after she got settled in that she realized something was different. He wasn't facing towards her, his back turned to her. It was weird to her, because he had never slept facing away from her before. Maybe the dream was trying to tell her something, to tell him the truth. She sat back up, feeling that it was best to tell him right there the whole truth.

"Greg?" she said as she shook him.

He turned onto his back. But it wasn't Greg. It wasn't even a he at all. It was her. O-Ren saw herself lying next to her, dressed in a white kimono. But what shocked her most was that top of her head was missing, her brains exposed. O-Ren was in shock. The one lying next to her made eye contact with her, her eyes watery, on the verge of tears.

"Nase desu ka?" she said.

-

The electronic tone, playing the first few keys of "Aula Lang Sigh" pulled her back. She found herself, standing over the bride with her hands on her hips. Her hands and knuckles stung with pain from delivering hard punches.

O-Ren turned her attention for a moment to Sofie, who was answering her cell phone. O-Ren wanted to smack the cell phone from Sofie's hand and then smack that smile from her face. But she ignored it, looking back down at the blood-splattered bride.

The bride's lower lip had been busted, one of her eyes already swelled shut. She looked much like how a girlfriend to Mike Tyson would. She still had one good eye that looked at them, but then slowly focused on her. For a brief moment, O-Ren felt sorry for Black Mamba.

I'm sorry, old friend, she thought, but you brought this on yourself. You had to pay what you did to me.

Bill tapped Sofie on the shoulder, motioning for her to leave. He whistled to the Vipers, all of them accustomed to Bill's signals. Vernita and Elle slowly turned and started towards the entrance. They picked up the groups guns before they exited completely. Budd knelt down next to BEEP, with a small smile on his face and a chuckle escaping from his throat.

"You're lucky you weren't dating me," Budd told her, "'Cause if you were, I would have made you a filleted fish with my Hanzo sword. Slice and dice."

O-Ren wished that he would. A part of her wanted to see the look on her face as her bowels came out. But that was unlikely. They pretty much did all they could do to her. Bill that it clear that he wanted to finish it. Budd stood, heading for the entrance. O-Ren looked back at Black Mamba for the last time. A friend and sister had become a complete stranger to her. She turned and begun to leave. She had almost passed by Bill before he caught her by the arm.

"Stay," was the only thing that Bill said to her, in a low mumble.

O-Ren understood why he wanted her to stay. He knew Black Mamba had hurt both of them a lot deeper than the others. It seemed fair that there be a witness to the execution. O-Ren could hear the bride's heavy breathing, deep and short breathes she seem to recognize. It was the kind one would have in a panic. Then came a whimper.

Bill's boots echoed in the confined room, a room that was meant for prayer. Now, it was a courtyard for BEEP and Bill was the executioner. He stopped next to her, his back facing towards O-Ren.

"Do you find me sadistic?" Bill asked the blood-splattered bride.

He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket, kneeling down next to her.

"You know, I'd like to believe, even now, that you are aware that there's nothing sadistic about my actions..."

O-Ren had a case of dejavue. She sworn that she had heard those words before. Her mind trailed off, trying to place where she heard them. But something came to her mind: Bill, it's your baby... A brief fragment came into her mind. She remembered a small piece of it. A church... Bill... BEEP... And O-Ren in the doorway.

"...this is me..."

O-Ren remembered it. A dream told of it.

"...at my most...

The dream predicted this...

"...masochistic."

The word had pulled her attention back.

"Bill..."

A part of O-Ren told her to stop this. The wounds that Black Mamba suffered would have made her bitter, but would eventually fade. If she didn't there would be some sort of hell to pay. O-Ren began to inhale to speak.

"...it's your bab..."

BANG! O-Ren stood with her mouth slightly ajarred. The chance to take back any damage was no longer there. The opportunity to change things had come and, in a fleeting second, had gone. Bill slowly turned, his pale face seeming distant in thought, or maybe in shock. He put the Colt away, walking towards the entrance. He paused right next to O-Ren.

"Nevermore," Bill mumbled lowly.

O-Ren looked at him as he picked up his flute from the bench out on the porch before he headed over to the waiting van. Bill had mumbled the most recognizable line from Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven". How fitting it was in the case of Bill and BEEP. O-Ren bowed her head and made a silent prayer.

Dead God, please forgive us for our sins we've committed. We are all lost. And watch over Black Mamba, and forget her for hers.

"Amen," she concluded, turned and headed for the van.

(To be continued...)


	8. A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

A Note from the Author

Hello ladies and gentleman. I am here to post an apology to you readers, to those who have been waiting for this story to be completed. I apologize for the fact that for a long time, I have never had as much drive or initiative to complete the story of "Kill Bill: Love and Loss." At first, the reason why was due to the lack of available time because of my classes at University (which I began back in the summer of 2005). Eventually, it widdled it's way down to the point where I lost my interest to sit down long enough to punch out the remaining chapters for the story. I know quite a lot of people were hoping that I complete the tale, but in the current incarnation of text, it is pretty much dead in the water.

Of course, I feel that seeing that I don't want to leave this story unfinished and the readers unsatisfied, below is a summary for not just "Kill Bill: Love and Loss", but for a followup story to the fic called "Kill Bill: Love and Honor." If you wish to satisfy your curiousity as to what was suppose to happen, you're more than welcome to read further. Needless to say, I thank you all very much for your time and I apologize for not being able to complete this story as I had hoped. Thank you all.

Sinecerely,  
Code Breaker

------What was to happen in "Kill Bill: Love and Loss"------

Chapter 8 was to follow Greg on his return to back to the United States, after scattering O-Ren's ashes. He flips through the photo album, looking at all the pictures of O-Ren throughout her life. He notices that one picture is missing from the album. Greg picks up one of her journals. There is a small message written by O-Ren in one of the journal covers that says, "Hey Greg, Don't make it bad. Love always, O-Ren." He can't place where he heard those words before. After touching down in San Francisco, Greg's brother Lucas picks him up from the airport and they begin to drive out to the Lowndes family farm. Greg would fall asleep and have a dream memory of the time that he introduced O-Ren to his family (which happened to be the day time that Beatrix finds out she's pregnant during the Emily Wong hit, the hit that O-Ren was suppose to have been on). The meeting goes off rather smooth, O-Ren making an excellent impression on Greg's mother and even discovered Greg and Lucas' talent for gunslinging. Just as everyone turns in for the night, O-Ren and Greg slow dance to "Nights in White Satin" by The Moody Blues from his LP Collection. Of course, Greg is awaken and goes into the house. Greg asks his father if he knew of any way he could help in setting up an organization to help children who were orphaned by crime-related incidents, much like what happened with O-Ren. Greg also begins to try to find where Beatrix is, so he could deliver her the envelope.

Chapter 9 would have picked up right after O-Ren kills Boss Tanaka (which would have reitterated the fact that she sees people who insult her geneology as an attack on her family, much like how Elle did in Chapter 7, and would have suggested that most of Boss Tanaka's hostility toward her may have stimmed from "his brother being busted for conspiracy in L.A. by three private detectives" {yes, that would have been a "Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle" reference, in which there is a "Tanaka gang" that tries to buy the HALO rings}). She would have changed her kimono and decide to head back to her apartment. She, of course, is wondering about how Greg knew the truth about what she did and why he left, sending Gogo and some of the Crazy-88 to pick him up. He is brought to her against his will and they are left alone in her study. She uses Bill's infamous cocktail, "The Undisputed Truth" on him, asking why he ran. It turns out, that the reason why he left wasn't the same reason why she thought he left. While he was cleaning the apartment, he accidentally discovered one of her journals and began reading it, discovering the turth about her. He ran because he hated her for lying to him about who she was, saying, "You're not the O-Ren Ishii I fell in love with," and that he fell in love with the idea of what she presented herself to be (and he was the one who ransacked their apartment in a fit of rage). She lets him leave, unsure if he'll ever forgive her. She lets him know that she left his car and some of his stuff with his family before leaving to come to Japan.

Chapter 10 would have taken place hours after Chapter 7, where O-Ren comes home to find the apartment completely ransacked. Fearing that some sort of competition may have done it and hurt Greg in the process, she calls the hospital to see if he is there. She is informed that Greg has agreed to sign up with the World Work Exchange program for the World Health Organization and the plane was scheduled to leave in 45 minutes. She doesn't understand why he would leave, until she notices that the pill bottle she hid underneath the sink is sitting on the floor in the bathroom, and she assumes Greg knows about what she did because of the medication. O-Ren would have jumped on her motorcycle and taken off, hightailing it through the city in an attempt to get to the airport. She gets there, but a couple of minutes too late (just in time to see the plane take off). She goes back to her apartment, where in a fit of hurtful rage, she smashes several items that belonged to both her and Greg that wasn't destroyed by Greg. A couple of days later, Sofie Fatale comes to visit her, finding O-Ren under the bed (yes, that would be the third time in the whole KB saga). She tells Sofie why, or at least what she thinks is why, Greg left: she had become pregnant, due to that one moment where she asked Greg to make love to her to replace the sorrow she felt for having been told Beatrix was dead. She had went to a private "doctor" and got an abortion just while Greg was pulling a 24-hour shift (at 4:23 a.m.). Sofie tries to console her, O-Ren telling Sofie that she has no idea about what she is going through. Sofie tells her she does, and explains that the reason why Bill had brought Sofie with him to El Paso was because he had walked in on her during her attempting to kill herself (mainly due to the pain she felt for losing Pretty Riki). Towards the end of the Chapter, O-Ren decides to return to Japan after a couple of months since Greg left her, with her dropping off his car and some of his stuff at his parent's place.

Chapter 11 would have taken a couple of months after Beatrix killed Bill. Greg finds her owning a record store in Tallahassee, Florida. She almost comes close to killing him, thinking he was there to kill her for revenge for O-Ren's death. Greg tells her that he was there just to deliver something to her. He gives her the envelope and leaves. When she opens it, she finds a picture of the Vipers at the barbeque that was seen earlier in the story. On the back of the picture, there is a message: "I'm sorry, sister. Love, O-Ren." While Greg drives, The Beatle's song, "Hey Jude" comes on the radio. He recognizes the lyrics, the same ones O-Ren used as a message to him.

Chapter 12, which would have been titled "The Final Minutes of O-Ren Ishii". It would have picked up right at the moment where O-Ren closes the door behind her during the Bride's fight with the Crazy-88. We would have seen that she had a cellphone in a hidden pocket inside her kimono. She calls Bill, but only gets his voice mail. After leaving a message informing Bill that Beatrix was back, she decides to call the hospital and talk to Greg. She asks him if he would ever forgive him for not telling him the truth, him being honest by saying he wasn't sure. She tells him that she still loves him and that she was sorry to have lied to him about everything. She tells him that she'll talk with him later before hanging up and setting it down. She begins to refocus herself, feeling confident that Beatrix would be the one to go down. After that, the rest is an adaptation of the O-Ren/Beatrix snow garden fight seen in the film, primarily told from O-Ren's point of view (including her disbelief that the sword that Beatrix had was a Hanzo sword and that she may have been lying because of the fact that Beatrix knew she feared Hanzo swords). After the moment where Beatrix cut's the top of O-Ren's head off, O-Ren finds herself inside her library of the mind. When she says, "That really was a Hatori Hanzo sword," it was meant to be internal dialogue but came out as external dialogue. The library begins to fall apart, forcing O-Ren to run into the audio/visual portion of the library. When in there, the record player comes to life, playing "Nights in White Satin" by the Moody Blues. A book falls off the shelf next to her, showing her the dream she had about the house, the normal 9-to-5 job, with her and Greg and a little girl. She holds onto that one thought of Greg as the lights finally go out in the A/V room (signifying the neural activity of O-Ren's brain ceasing). The story would have ended right where it began, at O-Ren's death.

--------How "Kill Bill: Love and Honor" Would have Played out-----------

Taking place a year after the last story, we would have seen that the Ishii Foundation would have been flourishing with different chapters in seven different states, keeping children who were victims of violence the same way as O-Ren had been, from going down the same path as she did. Greg would have been running the main HQ for the foundation in San Francisco. Greg has also taken up a hobby, learning how to sword fight with the sword left behind by O-Ren. One day, without warning, Beatrix and B.B. show up and asks Greg for help. It turns out that Asimi (modeled after actress Zhang Ziyi) and Yuki Yubari have come to America with the intent on killing Beatrix for the death of Gogo (for Asimi, it is really for both O-Ren, for whom she had both professional and very personal relations with, and Gogo). But they aren't alone. They've also hired a spare hand, a blind swordsman named Zatoichi, whose sword skill makes Beatrix's look like child play in comparison. In order to keep B.B. safe, Greg leaves her with one of his trusted workers at the foundation.

While in San Francisco, Beatrix, Greg and Lucas (whom Greg asks for help from) go see an old friend of Beatrix's (who would have been modeled after Pam Grier), looking to find an extra hand in order to give them a bit of an advantage. Though there are no 100% professional assassins available, Beatrix's friend recommends a "middleweight" (an assassin that does not kill women and children, where as a "professional" kills all sorts of targets, on matter age or gender). The "middleweight"'s name is Julia Wen, and Beatrix's friend calls her on the cell to get her down. While heading out, Asimi, Yuki and Zatoichi show up and a brief fight ensues. Just when Asimi, Yuki and Zatoichi think that the fight is in their favor, a masked woman shows up out of nowhere, joining in on Beatrix, Greg and Lucas' side, barely getting them out of there. It turns out the masked woman is Julia Wen... And she not only looks exactly like O-Ren Ishii, but apparently retains some memories that could only belong to O-Ren.

They go to the Lowndes Family Home, where Greg and Lucas pick up their guns and patch up Beatrix who had taken a shot to her left arm. Beatrix has some hostility towards Julia, primarily because she looks like O-Ren. Greg is still confused, not sure what to think of Julia. After some discussion, it is decided that they need to get as far away from San Francisco. Greg knows of a place that he had looked at originally while trying to look at places for a potential weekend retreat for the kids of the Foundation. Greg asks his father to come along, since there is the possibility that the Yubari Sisters and Zatoichi would track them there. His father refuses to leave, choosing to "hold the fort" after they leave. Needless to say, Greg is right, the Yubari Sisters and Zatoichi show up, and Greg's father is tortured before he is killed, not giving them any information in the process.

The story after that moment becomes sort of a temporary "road movie"-like story. As the group travels, it becomes apparent that Julia has memories that could only belong to O-Ren. Lucas points out how eerie the situation with Julia is, reminding him of Alfred Hitchcock's "Vertigo". Greg begins to wonder if, as impossible as it sounds, if Julia is somehow a reincarnation of O-Ren. The group stops at a hotel real briefly, Greg and Julia sharing a room, and Lucas and Beatrix sharing another. Greg and Julia inadvertently make love after Greg has a dream about his and O-Ren's first date, which had also lead rather quickly to their first time making love. Lucas and Beatrix, however, talk a bit about movies and a bit about what happened in "Kill Bill", Lucas pointing out the odd similarities to Beatrix's story "Lady Snowblood" and "Sugar-Howling of Angel". Lucas also reveals to her how he wanted to be a filmmaker, but just "never had a good idea" to use. Beatrix actually takes a liking to Lucas, almost picturing him as being a good father figure to B.B. We jump to Asimi, Yuki and Zatoichi who are ransacking the office at the Ishii Foundation HQ, trying to find any possible leads as to where their targets are heading. Asimi recalls how she and O-Ren met. There is even a flashback that takes place with Asimi and O-Ren in bed, talking about what they want out of life. Yuki comes across a list of potential lots that had been considered for expansion by Greg, a list so short that the first two locations are in San Francisco, and the third being out of town.

The group arrives at an old-style Mission that is no longer in use. They decide to set up a means of being altered whenever Asimi, Yuki and Zatoichi, agreeing on standing watch in the belltower that overlooked the mission. Beatrix begins to call into question about Julia's trustworthiness, finding it odd that she showed up just when Asimi and co. were trying to kill them. Greg defends Julia, Beatrix pretty much cutting him down verbally by saying that he's only doing so because of the fact he screwed up with O-Ren. (Note: I never really locked down the details about what happens within the Mission before Asimi and her crew show up.  
Asimi and her crew show up, which basically is the "third act" of the story. Asimi is caught off guard a bit when she sees Julia and how she looks a lot like O-Ren, but not enough during a shootout. Greg and Lucas prove themselves to be good at the old-style guns they picked up. In another part of the mission, Beatrix and Zatoichi end up sword fighting, with Zatoichi getting the upper hand. Greg breaks from the gunfight to check on Beatrix, finding that Zatoichi getting the upperhand. Greg takes O-Ren's sword and tries to get Zatoichi off guard, but he moves out of the way, and causing Greg to get the blade of the sword embedded into a nearby support beam. Beatrix tells Greg to get back to the gunfight, to which he does. Beatrix continues the fight. Zatoichi delivers a death blow from above, his blade making contact with another, and gets another blade right into his chest. Basically, Beatrix ducked down and managed to use her Hanzo sword to kill Zatoichi, while O-Ren's sword blocked the blade of Zatoichi's sword, three inches above Beatrix's head (this bit of the scene was modeled after the scene from the anime "Ninja Scroll", in which the same thing happens.

Greg gets back, only to find Lucas having to get hit in the arm. Julia had went after Asimi, but apparently got caught off guard. Now, you remember the dream O-Ren had in Chapter 7? Where after the part with the fight in the Snow Garden, where O-Ren found herself with a noose around her neck and she is hanged with Greg, Beatrix and Lucas in front of her and a "mysterious woman" next to her? Well, that's pretty much what happens. Yuki gets killed, followed by Asimi, but the gunfight takes too long and Julia ends up on the verge of death. Greg, Lucas and Beatrix manage to get Julia down, Greg performing CPR on her until she breathes on her own again. They bury the bodies of Asimi, Yuki and Zatoichi 8 foot deep hole, so that they couldn't be found. The group begins to head back, Greg and Julia deciding to stay together. Lucas, with a patched up arm, asks Beatrix if he could turn her story into a script and conveys that it'd be "the best revenge movie since 'Death Wish'." Beatrix agrees to, thinking it'd be a fair thing since he volunteered to help out. She even offers to put up the money for his first feature film, which deals with a group of bank robbers in a warehouse.

The final chapter is a loose adaptation of the first dream O-Ren has in Chapter 7, with Julia hesitating for a moment before opening the front door, only to find everything outside the same was it was before. Greg and Julia are married, and they have a little girl they've named O-Ren. There's also a little note at the end about Lucas' first film, and it being a success at the Sundance Film Festival, with plans in the works on a 3-hour revenge movie called "Kill Bill," with Beatrix being both a producer, co-writer and technical consultant.


End file.
